Remedium
by HalcyonSeasons
Summary: When Carlisle develops an antidote to vampirism, Bella never thought that Edward would choose mortality over her. She never thought it would complicate life as she knew it, either. Limits are tested, true colors are exposed, and there is no room for hope as turmoil ensues, threatening to obliterate what was once known as forever. 100 years post-BD AU. Angst galore and VERY dark.
1. Preface

**Disclaimer: **_Anything you recognize belongs to Stephenie Meyer._

* * *

_**Remedium **_

**Preface**

She'd never given much thought to how she would die. She would never die, though; it was almost like she had known that all along.

Back in a previous life—an easier one, at that—she would have died for _him_. Everything she did would have been for _him_. She had lived for _him_, and when she thought about it, she truly had died for _him_. She had died everyday for _him_ because it had been the right thing to do, and because she had thought it would all work out eventually.

When she thought about it now, there was nothing right about it. Him, her, the idea of him and her. Maybe he'd known that it wasn't right, but he'd done it, anyway. He had been—since he definitely was not now—a villain like that. And of course, that was fine with her. She was a villainess. It was practically her middle name. They were a team, a pair.

But how was it so easy for her to look so fondly in the face of complete innocence and plain, earthly beauty only to shatter it? To anybody else, it wasn't easy; it wasn't _supposed_ to be easy. Everybody had their deal of difficult times to get through, but maybe she'd had just had too many times like this. Maybe she'd been broken somewhere in the middle of this journey, so these times weren't that difficult anymore. They were only difficult for people who had feelings. She wasn't one of those people.

That made a lot of sense—almost too much sense, really.

Looking down at innocent green eyes filled with tears, but not quite releasing them, he held his breath and prayed for his soul. She would pray for hers, too, but it was impossible to pray for something that didn't exist. It was impossible to hope for nothing. She could give five times as much of herself, but five times zero was still zero.

She wanted to say she was sorry, but _sorry_ was just another one of her phrases. It was so classic that it was almost sickening. She had been sorry for bleeding, sorry for crying, and sorry for living. _Sorry_ hadn't done anything, and it never would. When the weak had nothing good of their own to give, what were they to do?

They were to take.

_Sorry_ had no effect, but she knew something that did.

Her hand traced his cheek, light as a feather. She knew keeping him away from the physical pain wouldn't numb the mental, but she couldn't afford to hurt him any more than she might in this moment.

"It will be as if I'd never existed."


	2. Chapter One

**Summary: **_When Carlisle develops a antidote to vampirism in the year of 2116, Bella never thought that Edward would choose mortality over her. She never thought it would complicate life as she knew it, either. Limits are tested, true colors are exposed, and there is no room for hope as turmoil ensues, threatening to obliterate what was once known as forever._

**Warnings: **_Rated M for some language, sexual situations, and themes including suicide and depression. Also, this isn't a happy story._

**Disclaimer:** _Any recognizable names or characters belong entirely to Stephenie Meyer._

* * *

_**Remedium **_

**Act I: Year 2116**

**Chapter One**

Happy tears stung in Renesmee Cullen's eyes. As she looked up at the glass mansion she'd spent her childhood in, she knew she was home. She'd been born and raised in that house, and now, she was back. In a way, it was kind of liberating, even if she was with her family. The move back had practically been her choice, after all.

Esme Cullen, her grandmother—for the lack of a better word—wore a smile as genuine as Renesmee's. They were easily the happiest people to be back, though everyone else was content with the move, too. Renesmee and Esme had always had similar souls, anyway. It only made sense since the former woman had half of the latter woman's name.

Everybody was truly happy to be back, though. There was no denying it. The Olympic Coven had moved around the globe for years and years, yet they had come back to the rainy, bland Forks, Washington so soon. It was _home_, a place to fall back on. A hundred and three years had passed, but that time was relatively short. Time was limitless for creatures like them. Immortality in general was limitless, infinite.

Renesmee hadn't been around for as long as the others, aside from her mother. They'd experienced most of the same things and the same places, and they'd learned that people are fairly the same. Renesmee, though, still believed in this house and all that had happened in it, as well as the people in town, and people in general. She had a lot more hope than what was necessary.

Forks was Renesmee's favorite place. She loved it more than anywhere else in the United States, more than Iceland, more than Australia. To be back was truly a blessing. Everything in her life was a blessing, including the man right by her side, and she was reminded of it every single day with his undivided attention and adoration.

Renesmee squeezed Jacob Black's warm hand a little and turned to him, smiling. "Don't you love it?" she asked him.

Jacob looked down at her with a smile like no other, white and perfect and a lot unlike his current state of mind, but that was a different issue for a different time, and Renesmee had no idea, anyway. Now was Renesmee's time. It was always Renesmee's time, and Jacob didn't know anything different. Nobody really did, but that was just something that took adjustment. "It's amazing, Ness," he told her.

Her smile grew as wide as her satisfaction with having people agree with her. "It really is," she replied.

As Renesmee, Jacob, and the rest of the family entered the house, Renesmee's parents, Bella and Edward Cullen, took their time and approached the premises last. Bella's eyes were as wide as the moon; the house held more personal memories—not particularly good or bad ones, but simply memories—for her than for anybody else, in her mind.

Bella and Edward stopped short just of the front door. Edward sighed and pressed his lips down to Bella's forehead, which was something he liked to utilize—a lot. It was a classic, and Bella thanked the gods for it every single day.

"Home," he said, keeping his lips on her forehead, and his arms wrapped around her tightly like she was going to go anywhere. He didn't have to worry, though; he held forever in his arms right here and right now.

Bella smiled and turned to face him. "Not exactly. There's the cottage."

He chuckled. "There's always the cottage." And with that, he turned, wrapped his arm around her waist, and they started on their way to their real home.

* * *

Secluded and deep in the woods, Edward and Bella's cottage would take a lot of searching for an outsider to locate, so in the century that they'd been gone, the home had remained untouched and pristine, just the way they'd left it. Time in its infinity resumed now.

Running her fingers across the bookshelf in living room, Bella walked carefully, noticing the century's worth of dust that had built up for so long, wanting it gone immediately. A lot of things had been bothering her lately, more than they usually did, and even then, she had always been a sort of lax person when it came to simple things. But Bella's state of mind had been tense, and it still was. She couldn't pinpoint what was exactly troubling her, and that just added on to her predicaments, forming a positive feedback loop that she couldn't wrap her head around.

Edward, her loving husband, couldn't wrap his head around her problem, either, but she couldn't be surprised; she wouldn't let him get into her mind to even try to figure out her issue. That was always the deal with them since she had become immortal. Bella thought she could solve her own difficulties, so she always let them build and build until that solution came, when really, the solution was Edward.

So because he couldn't wrap himself around her mind, Edward wrapped his arms around her body again instead. It had been a strange couple of days for him, too; he just couldn't get enough of Bella, and he never let her go. Crazily enough, they weren't even in danger. Not today. Something had to be brewing inside him, too, only he handled things much better than she did. He was cool; he lived in coolness these days. Bella, not so much.

Bella swayed a little bit in Edward's arms. "_Now_ we're home," she said.

"Could hardly wait," he replied, and then he was kissing her neck, the gateway to getting what he wanted. Her breathing hitched as he clutched her tighter, and it was then that she realized she wasn't cool at all. She'd never been able to keep things under control very well.

"Where's the kid?" she asked in half-seriousness, half-playfulness.

He laughed softly like the angel he was. "Over a hundred of years have passed since we've been back," he said, "and _now_ you decide to worry about where the kid is."

Bella laughed, too, in a much uglier fashion, at least to her. "I guess the kid doesn't matter so much right now."

Edward shook his head, wordless, and then returned his lips to her throat. His body pressed closer to hers, and she arched her back, broke away momentarily, and turned around quickly. If she was human, she would have given herself whiplash. Their lips collided as if they hadn't kissed each other in a century, but it was the home aspect that made things different. The familiarity was prominent, and it made all the difference.

It was a strange thing to come across her mind, but Bella was glad the Cullens had money. If they didn't, then it would have been wasteful and fiscally impossible for her and Edward to be ripping each other's clothes off all the time. If they weren't millionaires (billionaires, perhaps?), they'd be a little more sensible, a little more resourceful. But when had rich people ever been practical? Besides, indulgence was a way of life, and if Bella and Edward together could ever be put into a word, it was indulgent.

And they loved each other—they really did. The whole _forever_ thing was real, and it was still Bella's favorite word. They loved each other and each other's bodies and what they could do in an hour on their living room floor. Bella and Edward loved each other; they told each other every day, during every session of what they liked to do most together, nearly every time they came together.

When his mouth wasn't on her lips, her ownership of him was. With her fingernails gliding across his back, she could have etched her name onto him if she wanted to take the time to, and he wouldn't have minded. He would wear it like the best of tattoos. _Mine, mine, mine._ Both possessive and hungry, Bella's moans complemented Edward's groans. Her cries were the harmony to the melody of his grunts.

To say they had communication problems was a bit of an exaggeration, but neither Bella nor Edward were big on talking to each other when they were so preoccupied. They both had one-track minds, so when Edward began to engage in actual conversation, Bella grew slightly confused.

It was between animalistic noises, fluid hip movements, and greedy _I love you_s when he uttered, "How would you feel if I was human?"

Not taking him seriously, Bella kept her eyes shut and ruffled his soft, bronze hair. Keeping quiet, she peppered kisses along his sharp collarbone and occasionally grazed her teeth along them. A shiver ran through him, and not out of coldness.

"Bella," he said, not letting her ignore him, "how would you feel if I was human?"

_God, he's serious._ She opened her eyes and stared at him. Thrown immediately out of her high, she knit her eyebrows. "Are you okay?" she asked, the atmosphere completely different. _It sure didn't take a lot for that to happen_, she realized.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied. "I just wanted to know how you would feel."

"Well, I would obviously feel like something is wrong." Her words came out harsh, but so was his silly question. "Are you unhappy with vampirism or something?"

"No," he assured her. "Not at all. I just want to know what it would be like, is all."

"Okay," she said, not believing a word of what he had told her, "but is there a reason why you brought this up? Things have been a little… _edgy_ lately. You know?"

He nodded, but it did nothing for her nerves. He still looked like he was hiding something horrible from her. She could always read him better than he could read her.

"You're right," he told her. "Carlisle, Rosalie, and I have been talking."

She blinked once. "About what?" Again, her words were harsh and as sharp as a knife.

"A cure."

"You make it sound like all of this is a _bad_ thing, Edward." She blinked again. "Are you unhappy with this? All of this?"

He clenched his jaw, the line protruding more than usual. "No, Bella, I am completely happy with life. The idea has been in the air for a few days, though."

Everything about this idea bothered her more than it should have at the moment, but Bella was an easily bothered person. "Of course," she said. "And you decided to tell me nothing."

He sighed as he rubbed little circles into her bare back. "The idea is very premature. It has gotten nowhere yet. There would be a lot of biological breakthroughs to be made for there to even be a rough first examination."

Bella nodded, careful to keep her emotions intact before everything turned way worse than it really was. "Okay," she said.

"Okay," he repeated. "Things are fine, I promise you."

"And you're happy?" she asked.

"I'm happy," he confirmed. "But your happiness is far more important. Are you happy?"

"I'm happy," she assured him.

"And you trust me?"

"I trust you. Forever."

Then he brought his lips to her forehead as if to simply clear her head of everything he had put into it just moments ago. It was as if she had a _clear memory_ button he could push every time he worried her, and all of a sudden, everything was okay. All of a sudden, he was forgiven and all of his impetuous words meant nothing. Classic.

He wasn't happy with vampirism and wanted to be human. Classic.

"Do you want to go to the main house?" he asked her gently. There was no point in asking, but that was the gallant thing to do, even as they obviously couldn't return to their previous state of euphoria.

Bella untangled herself from his body, stood up, and started walking down the hall to her closet for some fresh clothes. "Let's go," she called to him.

He remained on the wooden floor for a few moments longer. He had the feeling that she didn't trust a word he had said. Words just didn't seem to be enough for her. She would see, though, later on. She would have to.

* * *

At the main house, the other members of the Olympic Coven had resumed their activities as if they hadn't gone away. That was their default setting in Forks, since the town didn't particularly have many sightseeing opportunities they hadn't taken or interesting stores they hadn't shopped at. Over time, the stores had closed down and similar other ones had taken their places. Nobody had ever considered building a shopping mall or anything remotely resembling a name brand, though. Never.

Forks' longevity really surprised Renesmee, honestly. It was a tiny town that had nothing to thrive for. It didn't have tourist spots or anything special about it besides the boring title of the Logging Capital of the World. Renesmee felt sad for the town and its residents, but slightly proud at the same time. Forks was a durable little place that was nice to return to for her, but it didn't hold the same feeling for Jacob.

Resuming old activities like everybody else—Esme sitting at one end of the dining room table with her sketchpad and a pencil; Alice and Jasper talking quietly amongst themselves at the bottom of the staircase; Rosalie and Emmett building a house of cards at the other end of the dining room table after he had set up the cable system; and Carlisle in the library upstairs—Renesmee and Jacob sat on the leather couch in front of the television set. Jacob gazed absently at the plasma TV, his attention fixed on nothing in particular.

Jacob hadn't told Renesmee yet, but he was depressed. She should have known, but he hadn't been vocal enough with her lately to make it official. She had not even the slightest idea that he was depressed—that was what happened when she got too wrapped up in her own mind and stayed there for too long.

Somewhere in his own nearly vacant mind, Jacob knew why he was like this. It was obvious: everybody he had once truly known was now dead. Gone. Buried six feet underground.

Living with the Cullens since imprinting on Renesmee had taken Jacob away from the Quileutes. It was still in his blood, but the culture and people he'd known had been away from him for a while. By the time his father, Billy, had passed away, Jacob had been completely disconnected, but he hadn't been the last to know. He knew his family wouldn't treat him like that.

Still, though, everybody else was dead. They'd been dead for years, and their grandchildren and great-grandchildren were still around, but it wasn't nearly the same. His nieces and nephews could never replace his sisters or his lost friends. Only Jacob was senseless enough to phase forever, all for his imprint. Paul hadn't, Jared hadn't, Seth hadn't, Leah hadn't, and nobody else had, either. Only Jacob was that stupid. Only Jacob was too foolish to not think of a compromise.

The only times he had come around to see his old friends and family since he'd settled in with the Cullens were for the weddings and the funerals. Of his original pack, as well as Sam's, Jacob had attended everybody's wedding and everybody's funeral. Embry Call had looked so happy—_just so goddamn happy and still free_—when he'd gotten married so long ago. And Jacob had kept tabs on him, just like he had with everybody else, but he had definitely become a stranger, so to find out that Embry had passed away due to a stroke in his old age was hard. Really hard. Embry was the first of Jacob's friends—as well as his best friend—to go, and Jacob had been sad for a while, but it was the complications that made him realize that life carried on and people changed with time. It was difficult to believe in that since he wasn't changing at all, but that took time. Jacob had a lot of it, and he would continue to spend all of it with Renesmee, the love of his life that he'd hardly even shared a few kisses with.

So life never really resumed for Jacob Black. He wasn't allowed to _live._ Quiet and inattentive, Jacob continued to stare at the television as the commercials and programs passed him by. Every once in a while, he would see a girl make a snarky expression that reminded him so much of Leah Clearwater that it hurt. He missed her more now than ever. And then he'd see a guy grin after telling a dumb joke, and it was Quil. He saw Quil in a lot of things, too. His old friends were around him more posthumously than when they had been living.

Forks wasn't home to Jacob. No, it wasn't anything like home.

It was a goddamn graveyard.

* * *

Edward and Bella entered the main house together, and were greeted by everybody. Silently, Bella sat on the couch next to Renesmee, and Edward went upstairs to meet Carlisle in the library. Rosalie followed behind him. As much as Bella wanted to believe Edward's words, she couldn't. What else could they be discussing in secret, and why would it matter if the idea was so premature?

"Hey, Mom," Nessie said casually. She held Jacob's hand, rubbing it, but he was unresponsive. Both Renesmee and Jacob were used to that.

"Hey, sweetheart," Bella replied.

"Is Dad all right?" Nessie blurted. So it wasn't just Bella who could see that.

With her lips pressed into a hard line, Bella nodded. "Of course."

Bella's gaze was fixed on the TV, and Renesmee couldn't help but join in. It was another quiet day in Forks, almost like they had never left to begin with.

But all that Bella could think about, naturally, was Edward. Edward and his current afflictions.

She didn't like to admit it, but loving Edward Cullen was especially easy because he was beautiful. He wouldn't have been particularly loveable if he'd been any other way. He was brilliant, but lacked any endearing qualities, but Bella wasn't entirely crazy about all of that. She could deal with his broodiness; she'd been fascinated by it from the start.

Bella had always been prone to admiring people and places and things, but loving them, on the other hand, was especially hard in the aspect that she had only known of two different kinds of love in her earlier years. Jacob had selfishly compromised her views, but he'd never fully changed them since it had been so difficult for her to let the idea of sharing the same kind of love approach her mind. She had never wanted to think about it because at the time, it had sounded so absurd.

So her views on love were just a little twisted and confused, but she knew that she did love Edward in a way, and his splendor had always contributed to it. Her love for him was only solidified by his beauty, but now he wanted to give it all away. He wasn't happy. She knew him. He couldn't have been happy if he had brought up the idea of a cure in the first place.

It was a selfish idea, really, and that was coming from her. He was willing to give up beauty, a considerable part of her love, and perfection all for a chance at what could have been. It didn't make sense to Bella. People who dwelled on the past and its desires didn't make sense to Bella.

But Edward had asked for trust, so the least that Bella could do was give it to him. She wasn't a teddy bear that said, "I trust you" at every rash idea once somebody pulled the string, though. She should have had a say in all of this, no matter how premature.

"I'll see you later, guys," Bella told Renesmee and the zombie that had taken Jacob's place. "I'm gonna go check on Edward."

Nessie, completely enthralled in the television program, nodded. "See ya," she said without taking her eyes away from the screen.

Bella got up from the couch and made her way up the staircase. She might as well find out the minimal facts as soon as possible.

* * *

_**A/N: **__This is Remedium. Feedback is always appreciated._

_HalcyonSeasons_


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Emmett slapped a playing card down onto the table, face up. It was an ace. "Hit?" he asked Jacob.

"Nah,"Jacob said with a slight shake of his head. "Stay."

Emmett flipped over the other card, and it was a ten. "Twenty-one. Perfect."

"You're goddamn right," Jacob said.

Renesmee flicked her fingers across the screen of her tablet, simultaneously playing a puzzle game, looking at luxurious lake homes in Seattle, and fawning over wedding dresses that she would never wear anytime soon, sadly enough. _Oh, woe is me,_ she thought bitterly.

Concentrated on her device, she didn't look at Bella when she spoke to her, which Bella was used to.

"Did you talk to Dad?" Nessie asked Bella absentmindedly.

"No," Bella said, kicking herself for it. On her way to the library earlier, she had chickened out, swallowed her pride, and decided that the minuscule details of the "cure" (she still hated that word) were none of her business. If she was supposed to know, then she would have. She shouldn't have gotten so worked up about it.

So Bella had decided to take a break. It had been a long fucking day, and tonight felt like it would last forever. Winter nights often felt like an eternity.

Edward, Carlisle, and Rosalie had been upstairs all day, and even though it shouldn't have bothered Bella, it did. The key word for the day was _bothered. _Bella was just _so fucking bothered_. Edward was the key to it all being over, but he was still upstairs.

"Why not?" Renesmee asked.

Bella struggled to find the right words to say in front of everybody else. If they didn't know much of the ordeal, then it didn't matter. _It doesn't matter_, Bella told herself. _It really does not fucking matter._

"Walk with me to my place," Bella said.

"Sure."

Bella and Nessie stood up, and Jacob shortly did, too, once he set his cards down. "You don't have to come," Nessie quickly told him, and he didn't.

The two women made their quiet escape, and once they were out of the house and in the woods, Bella sighed and began.

"I'm worried about your father," she said.

Nessie's brown eyes widened, alarmed. "Is he in danger? Is it the Vol—?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that."

"Then what's going on?"

Bella had never been good with words, but now the words were nearly impossible to get out. Her mind was wavering, and nothing had even happened yet. _Nothing is happening,_ she told herself.

"Mom," Renesmee said sternly. "If it's so big, then I should probably know about it."

"But it's not big," Bella said, backtracking. "It's not. I think I'm just making it into a big deal."

Renesmee bit the inside of her cheek. "Well, you're freaking me out."

_I am such an idiot_, Bella thought. "How are you?" she suddenly asked.

"Aside from the fact that my mother is hiding something from me and claiming whatever she's freaking out is not a big deal," Nessie replied bitingly, "then I'm fine."

"How's Jacob?"

"Quiet." Just one word. That was all there was to him now.

Bella nodded. "Mm-hm."

The woods and everything in them fell silent. The silence was interrupted occasionally only by footsteps or twigs snapping under them on the frozen ground, but other than that, the night was silent and empty. It was a cloudy January night, and not even the stars would shine.

"I'm so tired of all of it," Renesmee finally admitted. "He's been in such a bad place for _years_ now. Something's gotta happen sometime, you know?" She didn't wait for Bella to reply. "I've been static for too long, and so has Jacob. I just don't want to wait anymore."

Bella waited for her to be finished. "What is it that you're waiting for?" she wondered.

Renesmee turned to her, not being able to see her mother's brown eyes in the dark. What she was going to say was going to come out badly, but Bella would understand. Bella always understood Renesmee and her ways, even if they were selfish and completely missing the point.

"I'm waiting for my life to start."

* * *

For the next two months, life in the Cullen residences was static as usual. Jacob was hushed. Renesmee didn't speak to him on it. Bella fell back into submissive ignorance. Edward proved from time to time again that he was definitely happy.

It was easy to be unchanging when one didn't have the choice, but now that the idea of a choice was floating around in the air (but never officially addressed), being more excited than usual was common. And it was on the last day of winter when the excitement reached fever pitch, because it was finally the time when Carlisle informed the rest of the household of the cure.

"In a collaborative effort," he announced, standing in the middle of the living room, "Edward, Rosalie, and I have developed a remedy for vampirism."

Alice spoke up first. She must have had a response brewing in her for ages. She saw it coming, after all. "I didn't know it was a sickness to begin with," she said. Bella smiled to herself. _That's my girl._

"We're not considering it a _sickness_, exactly," Rosalie said. "But I had the idea a few months before the move back to Forks, and Edward was also interested, so we came to Carlisle. It was a really interesting process and I think—no, I am positive, actually—that it will work out in the end."

"Is there something else you would like to tell us?" Esme asked calmly, her attention on Carlisle.

"That's just it," he said. "With scientific breakthroughs, we have developed something that could work wonders for those who didn't have a choice and would like one now."

Rosalie was beaming. She was as happy as a little kid on Christmas morning. "It's a really wonderful thing," she said.

"Yes," Edward agreed, staying tranquil. His eyes flashed from Esme to Jasper, and then from Jasper to Alice. "We were also going to consult with Tanya so—"

"What makes you think she—or any of them—would want to try it?" Alice asked.

_Yes!_ Bella thought. _Exactly!_

"Let's be positive about this, Alice," Edward said. If only he could shut her off. "There is the chance that they actually are interested," he added.

"I really cannot see how or why this is a good idea." Alice's words were as sharp as a knife.

"Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't," Rosalie told Alice. "I personally think this is a really bold and innovative step for science, and—"

"It's not about science," Jasper said quietly, forcing everybody to listen. "You three"—his eyes darted between Carlisle, Rosalie, and Edward—"are not at all concerned with science." He rested his eyes on Carlisle. "Or at least Rosalie and Edward aren't. This is merely for your own personal gain, and I don't need to be a mind-reader to tell."

"Can you _not_ see how absolutely _genius_ this is?" Rosalie demanded. Her eyes were wide and wild. "This isn't about anybody's personal gain, Jasper. We can help people who are willing to be helped, and it's practically perfect. The cure is fully developed and ready for use. If you don't like it, then don't take it, but it's very unfair of you to minimize the magnitude of this discovery. You cannot shut the remedy down merely because you're uninterested in taking it."

"I think this calls for a survey," Carlisle said, and with that, Jasper made the room and the people who occupied it relax. Carlisle looked to Alice, and then went around the living room.

"I would not like to be 'cured,'" Alice said. "I don't remember what it was like to be human, and I wouldn't want to find out, even if the remedy is as perfect as you all make it sound."

Bella, who sat next to Alice, spoke next. "I don't wanna try it. I just don't think it would work, despite the claims of it being perfect." _I also value beauty and immortality too much to give it all away._

"I'll try it," Edward said. Bella turned quickly to look at him, and he didn't bother to look back; he kept his focus on Carlisle. "If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work. But I know it will work."

"I understand your reasoning and I do believe it will work," Jasper said, "but I would not like to try it."

"Emmett?" Carlisle asked.

"I mean, I guess I'll do it," Emmett said. "Can't be that bad." He and Rosalie grinned at each other; Bella and Alice looked visibly disgusted.

"This doesn't apply to me," Renesmee said, "so pass." She was bitter as hell, but Jacob couldn't have a problem with it; none of this applied to him, either.

Esme gave a sad smile. Carlisle held her hand and gave a slight squeeze. "You don't have to if you don't want to," he murmured.

"Thank you," she mouthed.

"And you, Carlisle?" Jasper asked.

"I feel as if I cannot accomplish what I can now if I was human again," Carlisle said proudly, yet not arrogantly. "I am old, though, and I wouldn't mind leaving, but I would prefer to remain immortal."

Everybody nodded in understanding. Everybody except Bella. Her eyes stayed on Edward.

"I'm going to call Tanya," Rosalie announced as she got up from the couch. Tall and full of pride, she was going to get what she wanted. It only took almost two hundred years.

"Look at me," Bella whispered to Edward. He didn't respond. She glared at him and spoke again. "I told you to _fucking look at me_."

"Are you really going to start a scene right now?" Edward asked, his voice low and his topaz eyes on Bella's. Without a care in the world, he was totally unfazed.

"If you wanted to kick me in the face," Bella said, "then you should have just done it."

He knit his brow. "What do you even...?"

"It wouldn't have been even half as painful as what you just did now, Edward."

Edward closed his eyes and shook his head. "I think you're overreacting, and now is not the time."

"I think," Bella replied, "that you've just ruined everything."

"You're being kind of a problem right now, don't you think?" he asked.

"No," she answered brightly with a sly smile, "but I'm going to be."

* * *

_**A/N: **On the real, though, I do plan on finishing this story. Thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites. They are always appreciated._

_HalcyonSeasons_


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Rosalie cornered Bella at the driveway, grabbing the latter woman's arm. "Are you out of your goddamn mind!?" she exclaimed.

Bella tried to tugged her arm away, but Rosalie's strength prevailed. "Not now, Rose,."

The blonde whipped the brunette around and held her with both arms, her golden eyes wide and primitive. "You're going to be a _problem_, Bella? Is that it?"

Bella shook her head, embarrassed. "Stop, Rose."

"You're going to be a _problem_ now?" Rosalie repeated. "What the hell does that even _mean? _Have you lost your mind!?"

"This is none of your business," Bella said quietly, "so let me go."

"Bella, this is _all_ of our business!" Rosalie was so disgusted that she could have spit. She _should_ have spit, in all honesty. What Bella had said was way out of line. Didn't she know that? Would she ever take responsibility?

Bella managed to get one of her arms free and shoved Rosalie with it using all the power she contained in her body, but Rosalie, solid as a rock, kept her stance.

"What is your problem?" Rose demanded. "If you don't care for the remedy, don't take it!"

"I won't, Rosalie," Bella said slowly, just to make sure she heard her correctly. "I am not going to take the fucking remedy."

"Then why are you going to cause trouble for the rest of us?" Rosalie asked sharply. "Why the hell did you even think of saying that?"

Bella hadn't been thinking at all, honestly. If Bella was anything special—besides the obvious thing—then she was all bark and no bite. She could banter and threaten for days but still never do anything huge, and now she was going to have to deal with everything she'd dished out. It was only fair to everyone, but to her, it just wasn't fair at all.

"Edward is my husband," Bella stated.

"And he'll still be your husband once he's human," Rosalie reminded her, letting go. "You know that, right?"

"I do know," Bella admitted, "but it won't be the same."

Rosalie's eyes were honest. "If it works out okay, he can always go back."

"Well, I don't trust any part of this. I just don't want him taking that chance because of the possibility of things not going as planned." Bella sighed, exasperated. "Why do all of you trust this so-called cure?"

"Bella, it's not the chance of it working that you're worried about."

Rosalie might as well be a mind-reader; she could read Bella like a book.

"You're just worried about your little forever, aren't you?" Rosalie asked condescendingly.

"Practice what you preach," Bella told her. "Don't knock my desires down just because you don't have the same ones."

Rosalie crossed her arms and raised and eyebrow. "Oh, so this is _definitely_ about your desires."

Bella sneered. "My bad for caring about my future."

Rosalie's voice wasn't condescending this time, making Bella like her a little bit more in the moment. "You're insecure, aren't you, Bella?"

"You're not helping, you know."

"You're insecure about your future," Rosalie stated matter-of-factly.

"You would be, too," Bella replied, her face blank, "if you had it set for being perfect for so long. You would be _so_ insecure, Rosalie, if your future was suddenly jeopardized because of some stupid way to take it all back. You would be upset. You would be insecure, Rose. You would be terrified."

And it was then that Bella realized she had exposed practically everything, and to Rosalie, at that. More vulnerable than ever in the past century, Bella stared at the destroyer of everything she'd had going for her. And it was also then that Bella realized she would never forgive Rosalie. She would refuse to.

_Don't ruin my forever,_ Bella wanted to say. But what was the use? What change would it make? The plans were set in stone, as well as Bella's unhappiness.

* * *

The Denali coven, composed of Tanya, Kate, Garrett, Carmen, and Eleazar arrived in Forks two days later, having driven from Alaska. Spring had sprung, but the Forks air was still cold. There was still room for change, though.

Unwilling to be cured, the Denali coven planned on sticking around to watch the transformations and also to give each other mutual support, since they all considered each other cousins. Once they arrived, business almost began.

Esme insisted on saying last goodbyes; she didn't think the remedy would fail, but, caring for who she considered her children, she wanted to say goodbye to the vampire versions of them. She was positive that Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward would never go back. Everybody was. Even Bella.

So in their last moments, Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward were showered with hugs from everybody. Despite her dispute with Rosalie two days prior to the bittersweet goodbyes, Bella would miss Rosalie, and she told her.

"I'm not leaving for good yet," Rosalie assured her. "I'll still be me. Just different."

Emmett told Bella, his "little sister," to try not to eat him when he turned back, all while giving her a giant hug that she knew would be softer and warmer when he came back. She would be heartbroken if Emmett didn't come back.

Bella was the last (besides Renesmee) to say goodbye to Edward, and while she was angry, he was still her husband. While she was more than likely going to be a problem without meaning to or not, she still loved him. With time, Edward had grown to fit the unconditional love Bella had for Renesmee, though Edward made Bella much more temperamental. But still—Bella had died for the both of them. And it angered her, really made her _boil _with anger, that Edward was allowing himself to eventually die without her, if he would enjoy being human so much, though he hadn't anticipated on it.

It was just all so unbalanced. So Bella was angry, but not angry as she could have been; he'd be back, after all. She didn't believe the remedy would kill him; she just thought it wouldn't work. But she knew Edward, and she knew that he would adore being human with or without her. And though she highly doubted it would ever happen (because Edward still adored her and he would always adore her for the rest of time), there was still the slim, slim chance that he would leave her.

He would leave her _again_, this time for being human.

And she would boil with anger over it for the rest of eternity. She would much rather be angry and immortal than even and dead. She had too much pride for that.

Once his moment was done with Bella, Edward spent his very last vampire moments with Renesmee. She was still a daddy's girl, though they had been out of sync. While she had never really discussed the remedy with her mother or father (since they had both been trying to prove they were happy to each other over the past two months), she'd spent a lot of time with Jacob. She hadn't asked him much about his depression; they'd never really touched upon it or came clean on it. They'd spent most of their time on fake, annoying bullshit, but it was still time, and they had a lot of it. She didn't have much time with her father, though, and they both knew it, so everyone left Edward and Renesmee to be alone. Their moments belonged to them.

As Renesmee and Edward talked in private for a few minutes, Jacob was left desolate and on the balcony with Kate, Garrett, and Carmen of the Denali coven. It was Kate who had initially sparked up small talk with him.

"You're looking good," she told him politely.

A fake smile was plastered onto Jacob's face. "Thanks," he said.

"Still young, too," she observed. "It's almost like you're one of us."

"Might as well be, huh?"

Kate smiled; he couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. "Might as well," she agreed.

"How has life been treating you?" Garrett, Kate's boyfriend who she never planned on marrying yet always planned on being with, asked Jacob.

"Good," Jacob replied. "It's all been pretty good, I guess."

"Nice, man. Real nice."

As dazzling as vampires were supposed to be, they weren't huge on conversation with werewolves, no matter how long a certain one had been around. Jacob leaned against the bar and stared out to the forest. It wasn't a big place; he'd figured it out over three days, one time. He'd explored every part of it, alone. The world wasn't a big place when he knew it would always be there and he would always have time to experience it. Maybe that was why living people used the mantra _you only live once_ to the death: there was always a thrill in the rush of living, because living was something to be excited about when it wasn't permanent.

"You seem tired, Jacob," Carmen said. With a soft Spanish accent and eyes that were easy to trust, Carmen had a nice presence. She was easily Jacob's favorite of the Denali coven, though he often thought of them as one working machine.

And he was tired, too. He was _exhausted_, and it wasn't the kind of weariness that could be fixed with eight good hours of sleep. Carmen understood, though, and she understood his ties to Renesmee at the same time, and it made all the difference in the world.

Jacob sighed long and hard. "I am," he replied. "I really am."

And then Carmen touched Jacob on the arm in the most compassionate way, and it didn't matter that she felt like ice to the touch. Nothing else (besides Renesmee) mattered.

Somewhere along in the last century that had passed, Jacob could have—_should_ have—been treated with some form of sympathy, but somewhere, he'd been lost for good. It was Carmen's acknowledgment that made him a little bit braver, a little bit brighter. That one acknowledgment didn't immediately fix his depression, and it shouldn't have immediately fixed his depression, but it was a much-needed acknowledgment. Carmen had been the only one to take the time to understand, or at least attempt to understand what was visible on the surface.

The difference that one acknowledgment could make truly amazed Jacob.

* * *

Carlisle had turned an extra room on the third floor of the house into a sort of medical room. Rosalie would be changing first, and when she sat down on the experiment table with her bare legs up, clad in a hospital gown, everybody gathered around, but not too close; Carlisle still needed space to work.

"I'm going to explain the process as I go through the steps," Carlisle announced smoothly.

Eleazar, Carmen's husband, held his chin in his hand, focusing intensely on the tools that Carlisle had laid out. He didn't doubt Carlisle's abilities at all—he could never—but he was very interested in the science parts of the process.

Carlisle looked down at Rosalie, "Are you ready?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she whispered.

Carlisle shifted his focus to the group of spectators in the room. "Venom," he stated, "is a retrovirus. It works similarly to HIV, for example: it changes the DNA. I, with the enthusiastic help of Rosalie and Edward, have formed a retrovirus that serves as an antidote to venom and, eventually, vampirism. I don't personally see vampirism as a sickness or disease of some sorts; this is simply a key to existing differently than before."

Standing between Bella and Renesmee, Edward gave both their hands a squeeze. Renesmee squeezed back, not upset (however more understanding) with her father's decision, but still very nervous about the process. Bella remained frozen, using ignorance as a quick way to coerce him out of his decision. If only it would work.

In his left hand, Carlisle held up a small beaker containing a purple liquid that glinted in the light. In his right hand, he held a clear glass containing blood. Based on the smell, it was human blood, which caused a small stirring among the group, but nothing too noticeable.

Pouring the purple liquid into the blood, Carlisle spoke again. "The elixir mixes in almost instantly with the blood, and when Rosalie drinks it, her eyes will briefly change color, and she will fall asleep." He handed the glass to Rosalie. "All in one gulp, please," he advised her.

She did as told, and almost instantly—a human would miss it, and if Renesmee blinked, she would miss it all—Rosalie's eyes flashed quickly from red, then to blue, and then to white before closing completely. She fell onto her back, her blonde hair sprawled across the layer of paper between her and the table.

"That's it?" Renesmee asked quietly.

"Shhh..." Edward shushed her. "Watch."

Suddenly, Rosalie started coughing, and a clear liquid began burbling out of her closed mouth. In that moment, Alice and Jasper promptly exited the room, like they were viewing something unholy. They left totally unacknowledged.

Carlisle laid Rosalie on her side as she coughed up the rest of the liquid into a silver container on the floor. "Her body is getting rid of the venom," he explained.

Within minutes, Rosalie started dry-heaving, and Bella winced. "This is like a goddamn exorcism," she muttered as Carlisle shifted onto her back.

"Her heaving indicates there is no more venom in her body, so it is now time to start the blood transfusions," Carlisle explained as he carefully forced a fine tube into Rosalie's skin. The tube connected to a machine, and when Carlisle pushed a button, it started to pump blood and Rosalie stopped dry-heaving. "Her skin is already slightly more vulnerable, but still very tough," he noted. "It is similar to the texture of Renesmee's skin."

"How do you know Rosalie's blood type?" Eleazar wondered aloud.

"When I was initially reviving Rosalie, along with Emmett, Edward, and everyone else who I had changed," Carlisle replied, "I took note of their blood types in the hopes of doing transfusions. Making people immortal is hardly ever my prerogative."

"Ah." Eleazar nodded.

"The heart has already started pumping blood," Carlisle said to the group, "and as it pumps blood throughout Rosalie's body, her cells will unfreeze faster and faster. Rosalie will become warmer and begin to sort of... relax. This contrasts to the reverse process, in which the person becomes colder and stiffens."

Various heads nod in agreement, and Carlisle goes on. "Rosalie's DNA is changing again, and it will take approximately one and a half weeks for the process to be complete and for her to awaken again."

"So what happens now?" Emmett asked, staring down at Rosalie's unconscious body.

"Now," Carlisle said, "we wait."

* * *

And everybody waited. Over the course of the next week and a half, Rosalie's blood transfusions stopped eventually, but interior changes still occurred. Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, Edward, and Eleazar waited in the medical room nearly the entire time (Carlisle, Esme, and Eleazar still had to go hunting), watching over Rosalie. With time, Carlisle knew the time was coming, so he called everybody to return. Even Alice and Jasper came in to see the grand finale.

Rosalie's grumbling stomach was heard before her voice, and that indicated that the transformation was over. Warm, soft, and significantly slower than before, Rosalie fluttered her eyes open, and they were dark blue—nearly violet—which was her human color.

"Rosalie," Carlisle said. "How do you feel?"

The room was absolutely silent.

"Real," was what she said.

Obsessed with her heartbeat, weaker eyesight, less defined hearing, a slight headache from having less room in her head, and the feeling of intense hunger for human food, Rosalie was definitely human, though still a bit pale, in obvious need of some sunlight. The only complaint she had was that she didn't remember how to use the bathroom like an adult at first, which would take work. Other than that, she was happy-go-lucky, and being surrounded by vampires, she didn't feel much less confident in regards to her looks. She was still gorgeous, but on a human level, and even then, she knew that that didn't matter. Rosalie was _human._

Emmett's process was virtually the same, but with more venom to throw up, more blood to be transfused, and more time to change, taking two more days than Rosalie, all due to his size. When he was finally finished, his eyes were baby blue and his first words were, "Carlisle, I'm as blind as a bat."

"Did you wear glasses when you were human?" Carlisle responded.

Blinking excessively, Emmett shook his head. "Nah."

"All right, then. We'll get you some glasses." Nobody would have guessed that Emmett Cullen, brawny and tough, was nearsighted and could wear black-framed glasses like a (very human) model.

Esme and Carmen had the patience, but Jacob had the experience, so while Edward was transforming last, Rosalie and Emmett were guided through human courses while also occasionally getting checkups and immunizations from Carlisle. Bella and Renesmee watched over Edward's transformation entirely, along with Eleazar and Carlisle. Not taking as long as Emmett's, Edward's metamorphosis was similar to the previous two trials. Carlisle's discovery was solid.

Holding Edward's hand, Bella felt his pulse as he prepared to awaken once his most vital organs were working again. Bella's eyes were closed once Edward opened his, but she felt him move just slightly, forcing her to open her eyes.

His green eyes were the first things she saw of him. They were the eyes that Bella had never experienced firsthand prior to now, but the eyes that she had always wanted Renesmee to have. Those eyes glimmered like emeralds, but with golden flecks, too, and they focused up on the ceiling. Edward couldn't see the details that he usually could.

Looking still very pale but downright surprised, Edward blinked a few times. Then he focused on Bella, moving up the corners of his mouth in a weak smile.

"There was nothing to worry about," he said, his voice as weak and dry as his smile.

"Can you still read minds or something?" Bella wondered, her voice quiet, but still loud enough for him to hear. She still clutched his hand, but now leaned in closely. She felt his pulse everywhere, especially in her throat.

"No," he said, "but it wasn't hard to guess."

Bella smiled, not showing her teeth. "Well, you got me."

* * *

_**A/N: **Feedback is still appreciated. Questions are, too._

_Thanks so much,_

_HalcyonSeasons_


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

A bead of sweat trickled down the back of Renesmee's neck, forcing her to wipe it away and quickly fasten her hair into a knot at the top of her head. As soon as she had she moved her arms away from her pamphlet, all the once open pages had flipped close, and she successfully lost her place.

"Goddamn it," she whispered, careful not to draw too much attention from her classmates.

Summer didn't really start in Washington—even with the minimal global warming that had slowly but surely added with time—until July. Coincidentally, summer classes at the Peninsula College in Port Angeles didn't start until July, either, and there Renesmee and Jacob were, bright and somewhat early on July first. It wasn't the first time they'd gone to college, but things were different now, and Jacob hadn't been here in over a century.

Because Renesmee didn't feel like going away to a university so soon but wanted to escape her strange parents, PenCol was the ideal place. With her parents always doing the restrained, vampire-human, lovey-dovey shit (that she had graciously missed out on the first time) at home all the time, she felt even more alienated than usual, which was fucking huge to her. It wasn't huge enough to get her to move out, though. House-hunting was a bore, but she refused to let anyone else pick out a place. Community college was God's gift.

"You were on page twenty-six, Ness," Jacob told her, scanning his own pamphlet. He found it interesting how he'd decided to wait all this time to take criminal justice. It had been about time, honestly, and he was already enticed. It was incredible—with all this bottomless time, he could do just about anything.

"Thanks, Jake," Renesmee replied.

"Has anyone else in the family taken criminal justice some time or another?" Jacob wondered.

"Uncle Emmett, I think. Maybe my mom, too."

He nodded. "We should ask for pointers or something to get the main gist of it, you know?"

"Uncle Emmett's the way to go, then," she stated. "My mom's _way_ too busy." She rolled her brown eyes.

"Yeah, okay," Jacob replied sarcastically. "What could she possibly be busy with?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Staring into my dad's _gorgeous_ green eyes as they lay down in an empty field or whatnot. That kinda boring romantic stuff."

Jacob chuckled. "That sounds a little bit too much like them."

She laughed softly. "Right?"

The lightness suddenly faded, and their little conversation was shrunken down to a whisper of how social they could actually be with each other. She couldn't get upset with him, though; she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up over nearly nothing.

He wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, and she couldn't help but wish she could lick it off. Her ways were very conflicted in that way—sometimes she wanted to get him to open up again and touch him with her words in order for him to speak up after all this time, and other times she wanted to skip all of that and just touch him. She wanted to kiss his face, his chest, his everything. She wanted to kiss the lost words out of him and into her. Then she would understand his strange weather a little bit more. Her confusion was half-fueled with the endless desire to jump his bones with all the might in her body. She'd learned to suppress it with time, though, so it was always on the back burner, sometimes more prominent than other times, including now. She had places to go and things to do; constantly wetting her panties over him would be so distracting.

But understanding him just wasn't in the cards for her; the stars would never be aligned for Renesmee to understand Jacob Black and his silence. Alice had mentioned it one time to her, something about depression, but Renesmee didn't want to believe it. _Her_ Jacob, the Jacob who had everything in the world, depressed? It just didn't add up. He had never expressed suicidal thoughts or anything, but there was the possibility (and she knew it) that he didn't have to be suicidal for something to be wrong.

It wasn't her job to worry, though. Worrying had never been a familiar feeling for Renesmee, but it wasn't her fault. Living with the Cullens, she was never put in an environment where she had to worry about anybody she loved, because everybody was in the family. She had never had many friends, mostly because she couldn't connect with people her age, and she strongly believed that there was nobody on this planet who could connect with her. There was Jacob and the rest of the family, but there were, albeit, different.

Worrying wasn't familiar for Renesmee, but loneliness was. That wasn't her fault, though; she couldn't help her conditions.

Only it actually _was_ her fault. She had the power to change. She had all the power in the world.

So self-doubt and some slight self-loathing were common feelings, too, as well as narcissism, but it had been enough.

_It's not always about just me, me, me__, _she reminded herself. A little bit of self-identifying (Jacob would call it self-demeaning if he knew) kept her feeling like a humble, tiny aspect of the universe when everybody else expected her to be oozing with pride and as vast as the universe itself.

When Renesmee looked at Jacob, she knew their problems were bigger than just the combination of just their individual lists. Their problems could have been just as tremendous as the very universe they occupied small parts of, but there was no way to tell. There was no way to explore that when they stood on opposite ends of that amazing universe. And that was what hurt her the most. And somewhere in his mind, in the parts that weren't completely numb, that hurt him, too. And the private, shared pain was what made all the difference.

They shared a public smile that hurt the both of them even further.

* * *

Renesmee came bustling into the cottage she still lived in with her parents that night, and her mother shushed her the moment she stepped in. "Your father's sleeping," Bella explained. She was snuggled on the couch with her nose in a book.

Nessie quietly set her keys down on the coffee table. "Oh, shit, sorry." Then she sat down on the couch next to Bella, who was stiffer than usual.

"Do you want to tell me why you're home at eleven on a school night?" the older woman asked. She flipped the page in her book. It smelled of various, uncorrelated scents and had water-damaged pages with ink that had bled plenty of times. It was the oldest book Renesmee had seen these days.

"I'm in college," she reminded her mother. "It's different."

"And?"

"And Jacob and I went to dinner after class," Nessie explained, "and then we watched a couple of movies on his computer." She undid her hair knot and shook out her bronze tresses, relaxing.

"How were the movies?" Bella asked.

"They were good. _The Avengers_ was awesome. I felt indifferent about _Let Me In._"

"Did you see the original _Avengers_?"

Renesmee let out a single _ha_. "I wish," she said. "We couldn't find it for shit on the internet. We watched the third remake. It was almost as good as the original, though."

"That's nice to know." Bella's voice was totally absent.

Nessie peeked over her shoulder down onto the pages of her book. "Where'd you find a physical novel?" she asked.

Bella looked at Nessie with a smirk that had pride dripping from it. "I scavenged the entire town for it once Edward fell asleep."

"All of two blocks," Nessie replied. "_Amazing."_

"It is, trust me. Reading on devices is okay, but you know how I am about my books."

Nessie nodded and snuggled into the couch with her mother. Bella closed her book and set it down on the coffee table. With a free hand, she stroked her daughter's hair. "How was your day?" Bella asked.

"Typical."

"Typical?"

"Very much so." Nessie's eyes scanned the living room. "Tell me why the main house is all updated and fresh and everything while ours is still a century behind on trends? We've been back for six months now."

"You know how I feel about vintage things," Bella said. They chuckled. "But in all honesty, things have just been busy around here."

"How?"

"There are other things to get used to right now," Bella explained, "so we'll have to catch up on our home decor later."

Nessie nodded. "Do you have plans?"

"Not currently."

They were silent. Renesmee took six inhales and six exhales (Bella counted) before she spoke again.

"How was your day, Mom?"

"It was different," Bella said. _Different_ had been her favorite word lately, quickly replacing _forever_, though her heart had been so set on it. The dial had been stuck on _forever_ for the longest time, yet it hardly took a strain to turn it to the _different_ setting.

"Did you hang out with Dad?" Nessie wondered.

"Yes."

"How was it?"

Not wanting to use the word _different _again, Bella exchanged it for something else. "It was interesting. He's so fragile now. I know it's been months since he changed, but it's still a bit hard to get used to. He's not nearly as quick, you know, and he's just so warm."

"So it's kind of like me and Jacob?"

"Something like that."

"What did you guys do today?" Nessie wondered. "Lay in a grassy field?"

Caught red-handed, Bella furrowed her brow. "How do you know about that?"

Nessie giggled. "Uncle Jasper clued me in on it."

"I'm gonna have to kick his ass for eavesdropping. And, well, we did do that for a while. Renesmee, I don't know if you've done this or not, but it's very interesting to just _look_ at someone."

"I do that everyday."

"No, I mean really _look_ at them, and notice all that they are. It was so incredibly difficult for me to wrap my head around all that he is now. Your father... He's human. He's a living, breathing human being now."

"That must be quite the adjustment for you," Nessie remarked.

"It is," Bella said. "I promise. He has blood running through him, he has green eyes, he has to eat and use the restroom regularly, and... he is just. So. Warm. It's astonishing."

"What does that feel like to you?"

Bella shook her head and bit her lip as she stared out the window into the darkness. "Nothing. It feels like nothing. I can hardly touch him without him... without him _reacting so strongly. _He freaks the hell out, all the time. I don't think he trusts me, Renesmee."

Renesmee's voice was bleak. "Why?"

Bella inhaled deeply. "I mean it when I tell you this, Renesmee, and I hope to God that you never share this with anybody else, but he is much stronger than I am. He has a lot more restraint than I do. I think he's _terrified_ of me."

"Mom, I highly doubt—"

"I don't understand how he dealt with all of this so long ago," Bella continued, going on a tangent. "I don't know _why _he decided to deal with all of this, either, but he did. He took that chance for me, and ran that risk for so long, thinking he was a monster the entire thing. And you know what's especially astonishing about all of this? He was never a monster. He was anything but that. And suddenly, due to some dim-witted idea, I'm a monster. I am _the_ monster."

Bella paused, and Renesmee waited for her to be finished.

"You're not a monster, Mom," Nessie assured her, her voice shaking at the depth of her mother's confession. "None of us are. Things are just different. Do you think he'll go back?"

"I do," Bella replied. "I really do."

"You know him better than anybody," Renesmee pointed out. "Nobody can tell you otherwise. He's gonna go back, Mom. All you have to do is wait, and I know patience isn't really your thing, but..."

Bella calmed down enough to release a snicker. "Okay, you don't have to be a smart-ass, now."

"Totally not being a smart-ass," Nessie said, "but you're gonna have to be patient. And besides, men are slow, Mom. They need all the time they can get."

"Yeah, you're telling me."

They laughed, and a weight was lifted from Bella's chest. Perhaps the issue wasn't the way she had been feeling, but it was how she had kept it inside for months, building and building but never being relieved until just now. She had made a promise to Edward, though: she would give it a chance. And she was clearly giving everything a chance, so there was no reason to go to extremes as of now. He would go back eventually, and she knew it in her heart. She trusted his vibes better than his words. His words were why they she had been at the breaking point, after all.

So life as she knew it was just different now, and that beautiful forever was merely on hold. Renesmee was right: Bella knew Edward better than anybody else. Nobody could tell her otherwise.

* * *

_**A/N: **And that was the fourth (fifth, according to this site's system) chapter. Please let me take the time to apologize on behalf of my sins. I'm so sorry about the late update! School's already kicking my ass and the third week hasn't started yet. Thank you all for the reviews, favorites, and follows. Also, prepare yourself. The next chapter contains some Bella x Edward sexiness, or at least my attempt at it._

_Thanks again and until next chapter (as well as a happy birthday to Bella),_

_HalcyonSeasons_


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Bella watched Edward's chest rise and fall with each and every breath he took. As creepy as it would be in any other situation between two people of physically the same age, she understood the fascination in watching him sleep. She wondered what he dreamed about. She knew she would dream of him if she could; there was obviously no other way to do it. Selfishly, she hoped he dreamed of her, but not in the form of a nightmare. She wanted to be something light. Something beautiful and worth dreaming about.

One week after her talk with Renesmee, Bella was left home alone with a sleeping man. Renesmee and Jacob were in the main house with everybody else, so Bella decided she might as well be there, too. She quietly slipped out of the cottage.

Upon arriving at the main house, Bella found everybody in their respective places doing their designated activities in the living room and kitchen, though Renesmee was dozing off in Jacob's arms on the love seat.

Bella's gaze fell on the very human and very tired Rosalie and Emmett, who sat beside each other at the dining room table behind a bright laptop screen, very focused. Their blue eyes were bloodshot.

"How are you guys doing?" Bella asked.

Rosalie turned to look at Bella. "I'm running on four cups of coffee and unadulterated rage."

"Ooh," Bella said in mock horror. "Don't try to smash my face in or anything."

"Very funny." Rosalie's voice was bleak.

Bella glanced at the laptop screen. "What have you guys been doing that's deprived you of sleep?" she asked. "It's almost two A.M."

"We're looking for houses," Emmett replied. He removed his black-rimmed glasses only to briefly rub his eyes and put them back on. "There are just so many to choose from," he remarked, yawning.

"You guys should get some sleep," Bella suggested. "The houses aren't going anywhere within the next eight hours."

"We're in a bit of a rush to move out, Bella," Rosalie said icily.

Bella blinked. "Oh. Okay." She got out of her chair. "Carry on, then."

"Thanks," Rosalie said.

Even when she wasn't physically cold, she remained an ice queen. _Fucking incredible._

* * *

"Are you ever going to tell me where you're going?" Bella asked the next morning, staring at Edward as he tied the laces of his black sneakers.

Edward straightened up, and with his eyes looking as green as ever, he looked down at her. He smiled and put his hands on her cheeks. "Just hanging out with Emmett," he said.

She pursed her lips. "Promise?"

"I promise." Then he brought his soft lips down to her cool forehead. She gave him a microscopic smile in return.

"Are you ever going to kiss me on the mouth?" she asked him.

"You sure do ask a _lot _of questions," he said.

"It's a good thing I'm looking for a _lot_ of answers then," she replied in the same tone. "So, are you?"

He thought about it, cocked his head, and gave her a quick, chaste peck on the lips, so brief that she could hardly make her move.

Then she laughed, shaking her head. "You're so damn funny," she told him. "C'mon, you can kiss me for real, Edward. I won't bite."

He bit his lip, entirely serious. "No," he said firmly.

She sighed and put her hands on her hips. It was her classic stance. "God, Edward, you're making me feel like I'm in high school again," she told him. "You make me feel like I have something to be ashamed of."

"You know I don't want you to feel that way," he replied with a furrowed brow.

"Then don't make me. I mean..." She snaked her right hand to his hair, and her left to his back, causing him to stiffen, which she desperately tried to ignore. "I love you, Edward. And I want you. You know how much I still want you. You know that, right?"

He nodded. "I do, Bella. And I want you, too."

"Prove it."

"Emmett's waiting for me," he said bluntly, trying to pry her hands away from his body. She let him go. Excuses. He was made of them.

"I've been waiting longer," she said.

"I have to go."

"You could stay."

"I'd prefer not to."

"Is it that you don't want me or that you feel unsafe with me?"

"Neither, really, but the latter more than the former."

"Promise?"

He brought the back of her left hand up to his mouth and planted a kiss on it, as backwards as ever. "I promise."

He let her hand go, turned to the door of the cottage, and left. And it was then that she felt utterly, utterly helpless. There was one hope left, though, and she knew it.

* * *

Rosalie took a bite into her bagel "You're asking me about _sex_?" she asked between chews, totally bewildered.

Bella sat across from her, counting the crumbs on the blonde's plate. "Yeah," she replied solemnly. She didn't want to feel embarrassed; she and Rosalie were close, after all. They were supposed to talk about these sorts of things, even under their current conditions.

"Jesus, you don't have to be so embarrassed," Rosalie remarked.

"I am _not_ embarrassed," Bella said sharply.

"Sorry, sorry. So. Sex with Edward?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "With who else, Rose?"

Rosalie's eyes widened. "Okay, shit. Well, what do you want to know?"

"How can I make it happen?"

"Bella, what do you mean?"

"He doesn't even touch me without thinking I'm gonna murder him."

Rosalie wiped mustard away from the corner of her mouth as it hung agape. "Oh, God," she said.

"I know."

"He's not scared of you, is he?"

Bella shook her head sadly. "I don't want to think so, but he might be."

"You just have to be comfortable with him. He could get used to it."

"You really think so?"

"No," Rose said honestly, "but you guys are a couple of special snowflakes, anyway. Anything could happen."

"Okay, but when it comes down to the actual act," Bella said, "what do I do?"

"Well, not cowgirl unless you're trying to kill him."

"We've never even done that," Bella admitted.

"You could try—" Rosalie stopped herself. "Wait, you haven't even tried _cowgirl_?"

"Not that I can remember," Bella said.

"Have you guys ever done anything besides missionary?"

"We tried sixty-nine once, but that didn't really work out."

Rosalie put her hands over her mouth. _"Oh. My. God._"

"Rose!" Bella cried. "Could you please, _please_ try to help me out here?"

"I am," the blonde said. "I really am trying."

"This is literally the only time I'm asking for your help, Rosalie." Bella mentally backtracked and remembered when she had initially gotten pregnant. "This is the first time in a long time," she corrected herself. "And I'm serious."

Bella definitely was serious; Rosalie could see it in her eyes. The desperation was painfully real, and it made Rosalie feel bad for Bella. She had to be struggling; why else would she come to Rosalie?

"I'm not sure what I can do to help you," Rose admitted, "and I'm sorry about that, but I think you should speak with Tanya. She and her sisters are the originally succubi. You know that, right?"

Bella nodded. "Yeah," she said slowly, cautiously, "but I'm not trying to kill Edward."

"Talk to Tanya," Rose said. "She'll help you more than I can, I'm sure of it."

"It's your ass if she doesn't," Bella warned her.

Rosalie smiled wickedly. "Try me," she replied.

* * *

Bella finger-combed her hair as she waited for Tanya to answer the phone, gazing at a portrait of she-didn't-know-what hanging in the cottage kitchen. This was the third time Bella was calling, all because she couldn't stand to be ignored, but she couldn't stand to be without sex even more. It was almost as bad as going without food. _Edward's just gonna fucking kill me_, she thought.

With time, Bella had considered plenty of different complications with Edward—like how he would get tired and hungry and could get injured and all of that—but for some reason, the idea of not having sex with him had just never hit her. She'd just thought he'd been waiting until he settled into his humanness, but that wasn't the case, apparently. And it drove her _crazy_. If he really wanted her as much as he'd said he did, then it must have driven him just as crazy. She'd feel bad if it didn't, and feeling bad was such an incredible burden for her to carry.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up..." Bella murmured, and, like magic, Kate answered the phone.

"Bella?" she answered.

"Hey, Kate," Bella greeted her. "Would you put Tanya on the line?" She was careful not to say _your sister_. Even dead for over a century, Irina was still Kate and Tanya's sister. To ignore her would be, to them, a gesture ruder than flipping them off.

"Is somebody in trouble?" Kate asked. "I mean, if not, a _how are you?_ would have indicated the casualness."

"Sorry," Bella apologized weakly. "I just got so focused. Nobody's in trouble, though. I would just like to speak with Tanya."

"I'll put her on," Kate said. "Hold on for a second."

"Thanks."

Tanya was on the line within moments. "Hello, Bella," she said.

Bella sat up even straighter in her chair, the straightest she could possibly sit. "Hi, Tanya."

Tanya's voice was similar to a kitten's purr, in that it was warm and soft. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," Bella replied. "Everyone's fine and healthy and..." She sighed. "I just needed your help with something."

"What is it?"

Tanya wasn't Rosalie; Tanya could only handle Bella's awkward bullshit for so long. Bella started to babble. "I'm just going to be blunt about this and because—"

"Then be blunt, Bella. Please, just tell me what you need help with."

"I need to have sex with a human without killing him."

Tanya was silent. So was Bella.

"Oh," Tanya said, her voice at its normal, high tone, like she was presented with these kinds of pleads from hopeless, sex-hungry vampires everyday.

"Oh?" Bella asked.

"I thought you were going to ask me for help with something impossible," Tanya claimed, and then they both laughed. The tension between them thawed out a bit.

"So you're trying to have sex with Edward, I presume?" Tanya asked.

"You don't have to his name," Bella said. "But yes."

"Everyone can hear you, anyway," Tanya reminded her. "You don't have to be so embarrassed."

_I'm hardly even embarrassed_, Bella wanted to say, but she held her tongue and focused on her goal instead. "Okay," she said. "So, what do I do?" She omitted the emotional aspects, the aspects of Edward being too afraid to touch her, because nobody could fix those parts but Bella. Only she had the tools.

"I don't want you testing this out," Tanya said, "because, quite frankly, Edward means a lot to all of us, and if he was killed in an accident like this, we'd all be devastated."

"Yes, of course," Bella agreed.

"So I'll try it first," Tanya decided. "I haven't been with a human man for a while, but sometimes they live, though I never anticipate on them living."

"Right."

"If you'll give me, say, an hour and a half," Tanya continued, "then that will give me the time to be with a human man for a little while. I'll get back to you once I'm finished, okay?"

"Okay." Bella felt a weight being lifted from her chest. "Thank you so much, Tanya."

"Anything, Bella," she said. "We all have needs."

Bella successfully laughed awkwardly, one of her many skills. "Thanks," she said again.

"You're welcome. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye." Bella hung up and set her cell phone down on her lap. She pressed her lips together and waited. There was nothing to possibly do but wait. With all that waiting, Bella surely realized that she loved Tanya. She could do anything. She made things happen. She got shit done.

Out of all the things the iPhone 67 could do, it couldn't make time fast forward, which was all that Bella wanted. She could see Tanya now, getting ready to seduce a blissfully oblivious man, only he would live. He would live, and Edward would live. That was all that mattered.

Tanya wouldn't even have to try to seduce the man, when Bella actually thought about it. All she had to do was say hello, bat her eyelashes, and _bam_. Old school femininity, as boring as it could be, was still in. Technology and fashion had evolved over time, as well as art and pop culture, but straight men hadn't; they were still the same, willing to ejaculate into anything that had the right parts and moved. Bella had never felt more thankful for the common straight male stupidity.

An hour and a half passed, and Bella ended up waiting for two by the time her phone lit up and vibrated on her lap. She answered it instantly. "How'd it go?" she asked urgently.

"It went well," she said. "For accuracy, I chose a man of about the same body type, weight, and age of Edward. He lived, but—"

Unable to contain herself, Bella exploded with a giant, "_Yes!_"

"But," Tanya continued, "you have to be careful. _Extremely_ careful. I need you to have self-control, or at least as much as possible for you. Do _not_ make any sudden or jerky movements. Go slow, and if you must build speed, then don't go too fast. Let him go as fast as he wants, since he can't hurt you, but you have to be as careful as possible. And _please_, Bella, for the love of all that is holy, do not graze your teeth along any part of him, anywhere. Ever. And that's about everything."

"Wow," Bella said with a sigh. "That's it?"

"Yes."

"Tanya, you are incredible."

Tanya laughed a high one that resembled the sound of a bell. "It's one of my best qualities," she said, "now go."

"All right," Bella said with a smile. "Thank you again."

"You're very welcome."

Bella hung up, and stood on her feet. She didn't end up going anywhere; she only paced around the living room, thinking, thinking, thinking. She knew the mechanisms (to basically be some kind of toy), but the actual seduction part would take some time, as well as the most important part: the security. Edward wasn't secure with her; she saw it in his eyes every time she touched him. The slight fear was easy to read, and the intensifying of his pulse gave her away.

She felt like a clumsy little teenager again, only she knew all about the seduction. She knew how to get his blood boiling with desire and all of that sexy stuff; that was the easy part. But then there were emotions—she didn't know the slightest thing about those anymore. Perhaps Edward was just sensitive, because real people weren't very emotional in general. Bella had grown out of her emotional sensitivity with time, and Edward had had more time to grow out of his. Maybe some things just didn't change.

Edward didn't come home until the late afternoon, and he found Bella on the couch. Her nose was in a book, but her mind was someplace else. "Hey, love," he greeted her, looking heavenly in a gray button-down, dark-wash jeans, black sneakers, and a slight July tan.

Getting comfortable, he slipped off his shoes and sat on the couch. She set her book down on the coffee table and made some more room for him, and he quickly occupied it. It wasn't that he was particularly afraid to be alone with her; he was just very cautious. She had always been more temperamental than him when she wasn't solidly even. And Edward was willing to be comfortable with Bella. Security wasn't far away from what he was doing now.

Because passive-aggression wasn't sexy to him and she had her mind set on a specific goal, she smiled at him and asked, "How was your day?"

"I had a good one," he replied, relaxing into the couch, focusing on comfort. "Emmett and I went racing."

"With the land rockets?" Bella asked.

"Yeah."

"Were they fast?"

His voice became lower. "They were so fast."

Land rockets could go up to nine hundred miles per hour, and both Bella and Edward knew that his heart was beating at least three times as fast. His heart pounded, and she could feel it radiating from him.

"I love you," she suddenly told him, looking into his eyes and nowhere else. "And I don't want to frighten you," she continued. "Ever."

"You don't frighten me," he told her.

"I don't?"

He licked his lips and stared at hers. "No. Not at all."

"Okay, good," she whispered. "Let me try something."

Then she closed her eyes, and for the first time since he'd changed, she put her hand on the back of his neck and he didn't flinch. He sighed instead, and closed his own eyes.

Careful not to move very quickly, she brought her lips up to the corner of his mouth, gave a peck, and then moved to the other corner. It drove him wild on the inside. And then she moved her lips to his, moving slowly.

He kissed her back, and when she opened her mouth, he stiffened up and close his completely.

"Trust me," she whispered, her hand slightly playing with his hair. "Just trust me, okay?"

"Bella, I..."

"Try," she said. "For me. I tried for you."

It was true. He remained still until he eventually agreed. "Okay."

She continued kissing him, parting her mouth and legs. He helped her hoist her legs up onto the couch. Moving her other hand to his back, she laid on her own back, sinking deeper into the couch.

On his hands and knees, he broke away from her mouth and brought his lips down to her throat. She released a groan and separated her legs even more for him to move lower.

At first he merely kissed her throat, but then he moved to the other side of it—the left side—and started sucking, swirling his tongue in circles against her skin.

"You can undress me if you want," she told him. "You know I don't mind."

He chuckled into her skin before tugging off his own shirt and throwing it onto the living room floor. "I know," he said._  
_

_My fucking God_, she thought as she caught a look at him.

Then he moved his hands down to his belt buckle, undid it, pulled his jeans down, and stepped out of them. In his dark blue boxer briefs, completely present, he was beautiful. Despite being human, he was still beautiful, and it made Bella want to cry.

And then he was on his knees again, but his hands were on the button of Bella's jeans. He brought one hand to the bottom of her shirt and pushed it up, exposing the skin beneath her bellybutton. The pit of her stomach was stirring already, but when he kissed her on her lower stomach, her head began to stir as well.

One hand on the button of her jeans, he was quiet—and focusing on his breathing—when he finally unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them down as fast as he could, along with her panties. They didn't make it past her knees.

Bella bit her lip and waited. He took her wrists together with one of his hands in one move while bringing them over her head and kissing her on the mouth in another. The skin-to-cloth contact on both their upper and lower halves drove her mad. There were just a few layers to go, but so many at the same time. With a free hand, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and then brought his lips to her ear.

"Be still," he whispered. "Keep your arms up and back. Don't move your legs." She opened them further on command. He laughed airily, and she laughed with him.

He backed away and brought his body further down hers, one of his legs off the couch. With his hands on her knees, he started kissing her at her inner left thigh, making identical patterns to the ones on her throat.

"Have you ever thought of tying me up?" she jokingly asked, staring down at his head of bronze hair.

"No," he said easily, between kisses that moved higher. "I'm very traditional, find bondage very risky, and I also know that you'd just break the bonds, anyway."

"Total waste of money," she said. "Gotta stay resourceful."

"Always," he agreed. And he moved his mouth to where she'd wanted it all along.

At the initial entrance, she gasped suddenly at the warmth and moved her arms down to his head, gently pushing it forward. He removed his mouth for a split second and looked up at her. "Arms back."

With her arms back, Bella quickly got used to the contrast between hot and cold, or scorching and freezing. Once she did, she began to slightly rock her hips, but not enough for him to worry. He moved his mouth there like how he would on her face, if not more. Against her, he was burning up.

He slowly but surely took her to the edge with every subtle movement. At one point, she swore he was mouthing words in French. He had to be. Whimpering and slightly arching her back, she reclaimed the nerve to speak again. "Is it," she began, between heavy breaths, "okay if I—?"

Edward nodded and continued, bringing his hands away from her knees and onto her bare hips, rocking them with more force.

Bella, with her mouth slightly hung open and her eyes shut tight, released a sharp moan and clenched her legs into Edward's torso. He shuddered harshly.

"Oh, shit," she said, her voice quivering, and quickly widened her legs again so they were no longer touching him. "Oh, God," she cried. "Oh God, oh God, oh God." She sat up, backing up on the couch. He sat up, too, and backed away enough for her to close her legs.

"Oh, _God_," she repeated. "Are you okay?"

He looked perfectly fine, but internal bleeding didn't show in one's face. "I'm fine," he said quietly.

"Oh my God, do I have to take you to Carlisle?" she asked, refusing to calm down.

"No," he said, louder. "I'm fine."

"We should—"

"Bella, I'm _fine_." He had always hated it when she had assured him that she was "fine," but there was no other way to put it.

She pulled her panties and jeans up. _This was a horrible idea,_ she told herself. _This was all just a big mistake._

"Are you embarrassed, Bella?" he asked with pure confusion upon his face.

"Everybody's been assuming I'm embarrassed," she replied.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Bella, _are_ you embarrassed?" he asked again. "Please be honest with me."

She pulled her legs up to her chest and looked past him, staring at a spot on the wall behind him. "If you're asking me if all of this is causing me shame," she said, "then yes. I feel very shameful."

"Why?" he asked. "Have you always felt this way?"

She bit her lip and shook her head, still not looking directly at him. "Not since you..."

"Since I changed?"

She nodded and closed her eyes.

"And why do you feel this way?"

She said nothing.

"Tell me, Bella. Look at me."

She refused.

"_Look at me_," he said, his tone serious.

She opened her eyes and stared at him.

"Tell me why," he demanded. "Tell me why you feel this way."

"It's because it feels like a game," she admitted. "Like loving you—and you loving me, too—is a giant waiting game, where we're waiting for one of us to get hurt. We keep testing each other until I have hurt feelings or you're internally bleeding or dead on the floor. It's not working, Edward. I don't want to play anymore."

He inhaled deeply. "This isn't a game, Bella," he told her. "We're not playing any sort of twisted game where we're waiting on each other to reach limits."

"Well, how do I know, then?" Bella asked, her voice loud and piercing. "All this stupid, _stupid_ shit where we try things out for the hell of it isn't working. It's not fucking working. What if it gets worse? Then what? Are you still going to give me cute little kisses on the cheek, telling me it's oka—?"

He interrupted her by planting a kiss on her lips. It was a real kiss this time.

She waited for him to be finished, remaining absolutely still, and then she sighed. "You can't just kiss me and expect things to be okay again," she said.

"Who said things were ever _not_ okay?" he countered.

She pouted her lips. "You're delusional."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're overreacting."

She shook her head. "You're hurt. Don't try and tell me you didn't totally palpitate when—"

He kissed her forehead. "I'm okay."

She tightened her arms against her legs. "You're repetitive and slightly annoying, that's what you are."

"_Now_ I'm hurt," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Edward, you're too much."

He got off the couch and started to put his clothes back on. It was almost as sexy as watching him take them off—almost. Then he laid down on the floor. "Oh, really, now?"

"_Way _too much," she confirmed.

Laying on his back, he put his hands behind his head. Quiet and staring up at the ceiling, he relaxed. He wished he had Jasper's power in that way; he would get Bella to relax with him.

Edward could fall asleep right her, right now, just to end the perfect moment. He wished Bella could join him—he wished she could so much that it hurt a little, made him throb, or perhaps those were just the pending bruises on his sides. (He really was slightly injured—just a little sore, but nothing to be worried about.)

Maybe that was their problem, though, and had always been their problem even as it was more challenging now: they couldn't bring themselves to respect each other's decisions. They could compromise—though not now, under their circumstances—and complaining would still ensue until they both had their fill, except, for some wild reason, he was more even. But the only acceptable compromise for Bella that Edward would think of now would be if he changed back tonight, and he didn't want that. He still had things he wanted; he was still allowed to. And it hurt him somewhere deep down, too, but he didn't want to focus on it. He was brand-new. Everything was brand-new. He had just never felt so completely guilty of causing Bella jealousy or resentment or the impending feelings if they weren't already there.

So he wouldn't fall asleep. Knowing Bella, she'd ooze with white-hot jealousy, or sad, sad, depressing, black sorrow.

"Can I ask you something?" she suddenly said. She stared down at Edward from the couch.

"Anything."

"Was it...?" The hesitation hung in the air. "Was it the same for you as it was for me?"

"What we did today?"

"Yeah."

"Are you asking me, Bella, if I've ever faked it when _you_ were human?"

"Precisely."

"No," he answered.

"Not even once?"

"Never. It was real, Bella. It was all real. It's still real."

And he laid there, just like that. Real.

* * *

_**A/N: **I'm really trying hard to update this story on Tuesdays or the weekends. Those are my days off, and it kills me when I don't have time to update during the rest of the week. So you can expect weekly updates from me. Anyway, thank you for reading this chapter! It took me a while to get my thoughts together in order to write it; I just had so many new ones coming in. The next chapter will actually feature Jacob and Renesmee, according to my notes, but anything could happen._

_Thank you so much for all the hits, follows, favorites, and reviews. I can't wait to share more._

_Much love,_

_HalcyonSeasons_


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

Flicking on the bathroom light switch, Edward yawned deeply with his eyes almost shut. He blinked, and then, through unclear eyes with plenty of crust to pick out of them, he looked into the mirror and was still surprised with what he saw. He always hoped he would get used to it, but perhaps this was just God reminding him that Bella wasn't in the wrong, and that this wasn't permanent.

But what if he wanted it to be permanent? What was wrong with that?

He sighed aloud. _Everything_, he thought, his own voice being the only one in his head. _Everything is wrong. _He could only lie to himself and Bella for so long, but the truth remained as true as ever. They were growing apart. Both Edward and Bella had always been rather dismissive, but never to each other until now. These days, life was different. The motionless were finally moving.

_Get moving, get moving_, Edward told himself. _Keep it moving._

He ran his hand over a light at the sink, and cold water started running from the faucet. Placing his hot hands underneath it, he felt instantly relieved. These hot, summer nights of mid-July were going to scorch him. Cooler mornings were his saviors.

Edward leaned over the sink, splashed water over his face, and then got a good view of his face, up close and personal.

Being human was amazing, but being seventeen-years-old again was just _agonizing. _

He liked to eat whatever he wanted, and he never gained any weight, but all of the fat had managed to be converted to pimples on his face. It was just pimples, pimples, and more fucking pimples for Edward, and the end couldn't come soon enough. This was probably God reminding him again that Bella wasn't in the wrong, and punishment for devouring more bacon cheeseburgers than humanly possible, but that was his favorite food; it was merely inevitable.

Edward was thankful for stubble, though; the hair along his jaw concealed the worst of it all, and Bella never verbally complained, so it couldn't have been that bad. But pimples were ugly parts of being human, and he had never been very concerned with beauty in the first place. Routinely, he applied acne cream to his face, thoroughly rinsed it off, and then patted his face dry with a towel.

Running a hand through his clean hair, he padded off to the kitchen with food on his mind and the thought of his solitude on the back burner. He was practically a single man these days. Bella, while not avoiding him, was still very dismissive, often making a short effort to interact with Edward only to cut it off soon enough. Ever since their rendezvous last week which ended with purple bruises on his sides that took days to heal, she didn't bother with him for too long, while he had grown more comfortable with her only to be left cold and in the dark. They had to have had some type of shared special ability; they were just too damn good at flipping personalities and never being on the same page. They were hardly ever on the same chapter.

And then his daughter, Renesmee, was wrapped up in her own business that he couldn't get through to. Renesmee, similarly to her mother, wasn't very open at all. Closed off and always with Jacob, those two were one and the same. When he threw in Bella, the three were a force that Edward would never decipher. Being human

_Fucking amazing_, Edward thought, swinging open the refrigerator door and taking out a jar of strawberry jam. _Fucking enlightening._

* * *

"Visiting hours of ten to six are _so_ unreasonable," Jacob remarked as Renesmee parallel-parked next to the curb.

"Dealing with depression without treatment is _so_ unreasonable," Renesmee replied, straightening out the car.

"Living for over a hundred years without getting older for most of the time is _super_ unreasonable" was what threatened to roll right off his tongue, but he kept his snark to a minimum. Nessie had a lot of things to be upset over, and him adding onto them would be obnoxious. Then again, he had a lot of things—way more things—to be upset over, too. They were such a sad little couple, but his sadness mattered a little bit more today.

Nessie turned the car off and turned to him. "I'm sorry about the way I went about this," she said, "but I want you to get better. I _need_ you to get better."

"I know," he said. "I believe you."

"And I believe _in_ you," she told him. "I want you to try."

"You know I'll try."

"I want you to try the best that you can."

"Of course, honey."

She gave him a strange, sad smile. "All right," she said quietly.

"You'll pick me up in an hour, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's the plan."

He unbuckled his seat belt and started to get out of the car.

"I love you," she told him.

"I love you, too," he replied. And he meant it. He meant it entirely.

She waited until he was completely out of view before she started driving away. Having made plans to go shopping with Alice, she looked forward to them, but she worried more about Jacob than anything else. He was finally getting therapy since being diagnosed with clinical depression about a week ago (and taking part in a joke of an intervention shortly after), and she prayed to some form of a god that it would work. She missed him. She could easily bet money that _he_ missed him. That was more important. The acceptance of the fact that he was more focused on himself as opposed to her these days was slowly but surely settling in. She was glad, though.

And she felt _terrible_ about it. More than the usual terrible, too.

Renesmee should have done the research like anybody else would have. She shouldn't have taken everything so personally. That was what supportive girlfriends (if that was what she was to him) of depressed boyfriends did: they remained objective and didn't make assumptions, even if it was the easiest thing in the world. Jacob didn't deserve laziness from her, though; he deserved just the opposite.

She turned up the radio and rolled down her window as she drove far past over the speed limit. She was like her father in that way. The men in her life were just too goddamn strange.

* * *

"At least you're both getting therapy today," Alice commented as she quickly swiped her debit card at the store cashier's machine and typed in her PIN code.

"Excuse me?" Renesmee asked, debating with herself on whether she should have gotten those violet stilettos she'd had her eye on ten minutes ago.

"He's getting his therapy for depression, and you're getting retail therapy," Alice clarified, getting her receipt from the cashier and starting to walk.

Renesmee rose an eyebrow at her. "Was that supposed to be funny?"

"Oh, Nessie, Nessie, Nessie," Alice said. "Relax your pretty little head. I meant that in a light manner, though I am glad Jacob's finally getting the treatment he's needed for a long time."

"You noticed?"

Alice nodded, and Renesmee wondered just when she'd change up her hairstyle. "We all noticed," Alice replied, "and the intervention you held the other night wasn't the best way to handle it."

"God, I am _such _an idiot."

Alice rolled her eyes. "You have got to get over all of that self-loathing bullshit, Ness. It's not good for you, you know."

"Well, it _was_ wrong of me," Nessie reminded her aunt.

"Yes, it was. He's clinically depressed, not addicted to meth. That intervention was the wrong way to treat him. Depression isn't an addiction."

"I know, I know. At least I know _now._"

"That's always a good thing."

They made their way out to Renesmee's car. Alice got into the passenger seat, and upon starting the car up, Renesmee wondered aloud, "Was he going to do anything if I hadn't called him out on it in front of everybody?"

"What do you mean?" Alice replied.

"Alice, did you... _see_ anything?"

She shook her head. "No," she said sternly. "I couldn't see anything concerning you or Jacob even if I tried."

"Sorry."

Alice turned to Renesmee. "Don't be sorry."

"All right," Renesmee said. "Okay. How do you feel about all of this stuff? Besides Jacob. All that's going on with—"

"Your dad, Rosalie, and Emmett?" Alice prompted. "I was bitter about it for a long time, but I don't mind Rose and Emmett. At least they can agree on what they want and are happy with each other's decision. I don't mind what they're doing at all. It calls for less quality time—or at least being more careful with them—but dealing with your mother when she was human was the same type of situation."

"And about my parents..."

"Your parents are a mess, Renesmee, but you know that already."

_Like hell I do_, Nessie thought. But she put up a challenge, anyway. "How so?"

"You don't need me to tell you about how they disagree on _everything._ I feel it every time I'm around the both of them. Separately, though, it's like they're entirely different people. They're both very carefree when they're not together, but still coexisting, just in different spaces. They laugh a little more, knowing that the other person can't get jealous because the other person isn't there. They usually handle their issues differently, and they're always resolved soon enough. It's not the same now."

"Nothing is the same," Renesmee replied. "Nothing's been the same for a long time."

"Your mother has hope, though," Alice said, probably just to lift Renesmee's spirits. "Jasper told me just yesterday. She thinks your father is going to go back sometime later, but—who am I kidding? I don't know much about your parent's relationship. Your mother hardly speaks with me anymore, despite us being on the same side of the cure discussion. And your father... well, he's busy being human. He doesn't have time for the rest of us who aren't like him. He's too busy doing important, human things, like eating. And sleeping."

As much as Renesmee loved her Aunt Alice and her big, unfiltered mouth, it had been enough. She didn't need to be reminded that her parents were no longer the couple that she had bragged about to herself when she was a kid. They were no longer the couple that Renesmee would have killed to bring to some elementary school function, only to say, _Those are my parents and they're more in love than your parents. _That sappiness, that photo album of awkward, lovey-dovey pictures from over a hundred years ago didn't mean a thing today. Renesmee couldn't be that angry. She had other things to be concerned with. Her parents had always been melodramatic. Who the _fuck_ was she kidding?

She shouldn't have had to hear through Alice that her parents' relationship was going down the drain because of his stupid decision. She hadn't taken a side before (merely because she didn't like to pick and choose between her parents), but she was completely on her mom's side now. Her mother had done nothing wrong. Though she still loved him, her father was responsible for all of this.

Renesmee should have known better. For someone who had been to college plenty of times and was even going now, she sure was _stupid._ She was a fucking idiot. Love wore off—it didn't matter if her parents had both been immortal for such a long time. There wasn't a guide to immortal love, and even if there was, there definitely would not have been a disclaimer that ensured that love between immortals was immortal. Love, in general, was some bullshit.

She had been such a believer in the world and the beings that occupied it. It had been so easy to see the beauty in everything and anything, but now that there was pure, unadulterated ugliness occupying her own world, she didn't care. She didn't care anymore. All that she had to care about was Jacob, all because he was worth it. He had been a form of beauty in front of her eyes since day one, even as he had been fighting his own inner wars for a really long time. He had a thousand wars in his mind while she floated in a nomadic state of madness, with eyes but unable to see what was going on before her. She had ears, but hadn't been able to hear the truth.

The truth was that the real world was full of shit. That should have made itself clear from the very beginning.

* * *

_**A/N: **Give me a moment. I'm just getting warmed up, and this was just a transition chapter to set the stage for a Nessie x Jacob arc. Expect a new chapter by Thursday._

_Thanks again,_

_HalcyonSeasons_


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

At 11:00 on the dot, Renesmee's car pulled up to where she had dropped Jacob off an hour earlier. He wasn't done yet, so Renesmee had some extra time to collect her thoughts. Just when she thought she had everything together, it could all fall apart in an instant - she was good at making that happen.

_Be calm, be soothing, be understanding,_ she told herself. _Listen to him, don't judge, and don't bring up your own problems. Your problems don't matter. You are fine._

Jacob didn't appear from the building until 11:03, and when he arrived at Renesmee's car, her nerves didn't go away like they usually did when she was with him; they were only much, much more prominent. He usually made her relaxed just by his presence; what was she when nothing could calm her down, but a mess?

"Hey, Ness," he greeted her.

She picked out her words slowly, cautiously. "Hey, Jake," she said. "How was it?" _Tell me something beautiful, something inspiring. Tell me it was great and you're on your way to quick recovery so I can have you back for my own selfish needs. I want all of you back._

"It was all right," he said honestly (and he was telling the truth).

"That's it? Just all right?" _Don't push, don't push._

He looked slightly frustrated in the face. "Yeah. There's such a barrier, you know? Because I can't tell her exactly everything - or even the start of it, actually - so I can't get to the root of it all."

"I'm sure you could ease into it," Renesmee suggested. She was good at giving weak advice, because, to her, it was better than remaining silent. She didn't understand silence or not explaining herself.

"No," Jacob said curtly. "I won't be able to open up. Not now, not ever."

Renesmee frowned, and Jacob couldn't form any negative feelings about it. He was upset over a few things: therapy not going to work, being stuck here and forever, never changing… But Renesmee understanding how deep his depression was? No. Not now, not ever.

Renesmee was prone to being upset. That's all she was these days, his sad girl. Sad and mad (both kinds of mad). That was the daily life, easily slipping in with breakfast dates in the mornings, criminal justice classes in the afternoons, and movies at night. It wasn't that hard to be sad once one was conditioned to it, and that applied to both Jacob and Renesmee.

It was just only so much harder to feel at least _slightly_ real, in Renesmee's case. And she knew it, and she loved him, and she wanted him.

And, of course, it made all the difference.

People weren't supposed to want to fuck people who weren't completely okay in the head. It was unethical. It wasn't fair. Jacob couldn't forget that he hated himself and the Cullens and maybe even Renesmee for half an hour and then roll over and suddenly remember all of that, digging himself into an even deeper grave.

It wasn't even like the sexual interest was what all that was there. When Renesmee looked at Jacob, she didn't feel weak in the knees because she wanted him in her bedroom right that second, and she didn't feel her heart pound in her chest because the tension was there - right there - and she couldn't do anything to stop it. She felt weak and intense all in one because she wanted to help him, and based on what she had seen in media and books, sex was it. She understood the mechanisms, the steps, the build up, the climax, the resolution, all of it. That was what helped all the normal guys in the normal movies.

Jacob just wasn't a normal guy, and that killed Renesmee. As long as he felt like dying every single day for his own reasons, she would, too, for _her_ own reasons. Abnormality was beyond her and completely present all at once.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

She pressed the palm of her right hand to his cheek. What she did was dangerous and - quite frankly - very juvenile, but she didn't care. Jacob heard it all, saw it all, and felt it all. Thousands of images and feelings flew through his mind, and he comprehended every one of them. How much she wanted to be intimate with him, how much she wanted him to be better, how guilty she felt for how he was feeling, how her parents' vision of love had made her feel completely immune to love in general, how she felt so detached from humans _and_ vampires _and _werewolves, how frustrating everything about her life was at the moment, yet Jacob was depressed. It all flew out the window from her mind to his, and she instantly regretted it.

She pulled her hand away before he could feel anything else, but there was no way. He'd felt it all.

"Let me take you home," she said.

* * *

Bella studied Edward's every movement as he moved his graceful fingers along the keys of the grand piano, and she realized that she was blessed to not have his old power. Reading his mind as he played music would be exhausting. She wasn't musical in the least bit, and she wouldn't be able to comprehend at least half of all that was going on. Music was complex: it was mathematical, yet logical, yet emotional, yet creative. In Edward's human head, it was everything. Bella imagined what she would hear. _One-and-two-and-three-and-four-and. Key change. F major. Ritardando. I wish I'd copied and taped up my music so I wouldn't have to read from a book._

Something like that.

Edward, not the total prodigy he had once been but no longer a mere student on his eighth or ninth year, still loved to play music. He loved to listen to it even more. He listened to it all the time, every day, sometimes listening to the same pieces more than once or twice or three times, just to really _feel_ it. That was the entire point of being human again, wasn't it? The _feeling_ part of it?

Bella couldn't help but mumble, "The guy's still good," as he played through a piece, either Mozart or Beethoven. (She couldn't tell the difference just by sound, but there was clearly a difference that one would detect, even someone human like Edward.) In the main house's living room, everybody gathered around to hear Edward play, but only Bella really focused on him. He just wasn't that brand-new anymore. Edward simply wasn't as amazing now as he was _good_, but Bella would never tell him that. She also would tell him that she'd been cheated and was now with a less-than-amazing man that she had definitely not agreed to marry over a century ago. It would break his fragile heart, or worse: he wouldn't feel bad about it at all and it would shatter her armored heart into a trillion jagged pieces. That would be much worse.

Suddenly yet subtly, Jacob walked into the living room, and nobody but Bella paid any attention to him. He was like the family pet, never noticed, not even when he was whining. All he got was a _shush_. It was just Jacob, in the way as usual. Bella noticed, though. She was either his best friend or his worst enemy, but she needed a best friend these days.

She nodded at him to acknowledge him and led him out to the kitchen area. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Can we get out of here for a second?"

* * *

In Jacob's garage, Washington's little Taj Mahal as they had called it so long ago, Jacob wasn't Renesmee's and Bella wasn't Edward's. They could breathe here and Jacob and Bella. She took in the clean air.

"I am so goddamn sorry, Bella," he told her with a low voice and sincere eyes.

She furrowed her brow. Jacob was the least problematic person she knew these days, so there wasn't much to be sorry for, in her eyes. "What happened?"

"I've failed you and Edward, but mostly Renesmee," he admitted.

A long time ago, Bella would have pinned Jacob to a wall in a chokehold, asking if Renesmee was at all hurt and telling him she would kick his ass as soon as possible. Not now, though. Things had changed.

"Jake, I still don't understand what you've actually _done_," she replied. "You haven't failed anyone, as far as I know."

His voice remained low and bleak. "Renesmee isn't happy. She's in so much pain because of my depression."

Everything went still. Bella heard a fire truck's siren go off six miles away. Jacob bit the inside of his cheek so hard that he almost drew blood.

"Jacob," Bella slowly began, "we both know you're a smart man, so please, _please_ do not blame yourself for your depression, or let others blame you for it."

"I fucked up," he said. "Bella, I fucked up _because_ of my depression."

"No, you didn't. It's not your fault."

"Even though it is."

"Stop being like this, Jake. You can't blame yourself for everything. Why is that everyone's fucking _deal_ around here? Everybody is always trying to -"

He interrupted her tangent. "Well, fucking humor me, Bella. Try. What would you know about depression or pain or any of that shit?"

_Hell. _"I would know that you helped me out of it."

He was silent.

"I still remember that, you know," she added. "Are you fucking humored now?"

He clenched his jaw. She clenched her fists.

"This is going to sound a bit off," she said, "but I think what you need to focus on is yourself. I know there's the imprint, but right now, you're more important. Renesmee might have some hurt feelings because you can't always be there, but you just can't, and she's going to have to learn how to deal with that"

Jacob's expression was beyond confused. Bella didn't even have a word for it. "I can't believe you're telling me to forget about loving her."

She just shook her head. "Nothing lasts forever, Jacob, and love certainly doesn't last forever. And I'm not telling you to forget; I'm telling you to refocus."

"You jumped off a cliff," he reminded her.

"I guess I'm not the best person to discuss coping with," she admitted, indulging in self-criticism. That skill was getting easier and easier everyday. Becoming a vampire to begin with had made her so high and mighty; it was like every critique, every truth, was knocking her down a peg. Soon, she would be nothing.

"No, Bella, I appreciate it," he told her.

This was the most lopsided conversation Jacob and Bella had had in a long time. Maybe it was because they couldn't hug and make up. Maybe it was because they were no longer real people, but pieces that couldn't even come together to form something solid.

Maybe nothing was solid.

* * *

_**A/N: **I've had a birthday and gotten a new job and it's now a new year and I'm a horrible, horrible person, but I've finally updated after 4 months as you can see. It's still Thursday, though. I shouldn't make specific promises anymore. It's really risky._

_Happy (belated) New Year and thank you,_

_HalcyonSeasons_


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

By late-August, the concept of therapy was real, but Jacob's attendance was not. He'd made arrangements over the phone to announce that he was leaving, back near the fourth session. (The therapist was slightly relieved that he was leaving because she couldn't ever get through to him.)

As long as nobody else knew, Jacob would be dropped off, and then he would run. He'd usually be back in an hour, but today he either felt especially full or especially empty.

Over the years as his depression grew and grew, weighed him down with every minute for almost a century, he would phase and leave for days. Things could be perfectly fine on Tuesday night, but then he would disappear and not be back until Sunday afternoon. Renesmee had learned to not try to find him since there would be no use; he didn't have a pack for her to consult to, and he would just come back in a worse condition. When he disappeared, he usually came back slightly better, slightly brighter, and slightly less suicidal. It was the slightness that counted.

Today, Jacob got out of Renesmee's car, walked into the building, waited for her to leave, and headed to his garage to take care of things. He would be heading east soon, and the journey was a lot better when he was drunk.

Most times he went to Canada, other times he went to Portland, and sometimes he went to Puget Sound or further east. He rarely went west; all that was there was what was left of La Push, which was hardly anything. He'd be digging his own grave - again.

Today, Jacob felt like Spokane...or whatever it was called now. He had never needed a pack to begin with; he was just too good at being alone.

* * *

When Renesmee arrived at the therapist's office at eleven, she expected to wait for a few minutes and then see him again. He'd been doing so well, going to all his therapy sessions. The fact that he'd claimed he was feeling sort of better last week made up for the fact that he'd been skipping out on taking his medications. Maybe the medications would never work, but therapy did. He would be all better soon, though, refreshed and new and _hers._

She waited until 11:05, when she went inside the building. Dr. Gutierrez was the therapist's name, Renesmee believed. Finding the door to Dr. Gutierrez's office, Renesmee knocked sharply even though she had once been advised by Jacob to not interrupt them under any circumstances.

"Hey, it's just me," she said, swinging the door open. "Ness."

Dr. Gutierrez sat at her small table, and she seemed to be in the middle of eating lunch. She quickly wiped at her mouth with a napkin. "Did Alyssa send you?" she asked.

"No," Renesmee replied, forgetting to lie. "Where is Jacob?"

"Jacob? Jacob Black?"

"Yes, Jacob Black."

"He hasn't -" Dr. Gutierrez backtracked. "Would you please shut the door and have a seat, miss?"

Renesmee turned to close the door and then sat across from Dr. Gutierrez. "Where is he?" she demanded.

"Ness, right?" Dr. Gutierrez asked for clarification.

"For a therapist, you certainly like to beat around the bush," Renesmee judged, "but yes, that is my name. So where is Jacob?"

"Ness," Dr. Gutierrez began, "Jacob Black has not been here in almost a month. A few weeks ago, somebody called in and cancelled his appointments. He no longer has any ties to me or any other staff members in this clinic."

Renesmee felt her heart drop to the ground. "What?" Her voice cracked.

"That is what happened," Dr. Gutierrez reinforced.

Tears began to sting Renesmee's eyes. "But - but -" she stammered. "But he was doing so well. I can't believe..." She rubbed at her eyes and kept them covered as she leaned over, her elbows pressed to her knees. She took a few moments to get her thoughts together until she looked up again, eyes red and moist. "What happened?" she murmured. "Or are you not allowed to tell me?"

"I suppose that because he is no longer my client, I am permitted to discuss him," Dr. Gutierrez replied, "as well as because you are...family?"

"Yeah," Renesmee clarified. "He's my - we're together."

"Well, Jacob was, unfortunately, not making much progress. When he did attend his sessions with me, he barely spoke, and when he did, he was very vague. He revealed that he was not taking his medications, as well. Soon after he started seeking help from me, somebody called in to cancel the rest of his planned sessions."

"Was it him?" Renesmee asked. "Was it Jacob who called?"

"Yes."

Renesmee bit her lip and looked out the window behind Dr. Gutierrez. The clouds were rolling in. It was going to rain soon, and because she lived in Forks, it wouldn't be the warm summer rain; it would be the cold September rain that wasn't scheduled to arrive until...well, September. Forks was always ahead of things like that. Forks was ahead, but Renesmee was so far behind.

"Ness," Dr. Gutierrez said, getting Renesmee's attention back. "Has Jacob harmed or is he planning to harm himself or others?"

"No," Renesmee lied without batting an eye.

* * *

As much as Renesmee didn't like going to La Push, there was still the chance that Jacob was there. When he came back from running away, he usually told Renesmee he had been in La Push, and to not look for him when he did run away in order to respect his wishes.

Renesmee didn't mind being disrespectful.

She drove straight to Jacob's old garage. It was one of the last things left of La Push from the last century. For every one of Jacob's birthdays, one of his gifts was an offer of renovation to the garage, and Jacob always kindly accepted it, but he never had anything crazy done to it. It was virtually the same since before Renesmee had been born: red, comfortable, vintage. Renesmee hated the garage, though. She hated the fact that Jacob kept returning to it, to his old life, when he could integrate himself into _her_ life a little more (if that was even possible). Also, it had been his and her mom's favorite place when they were teenagers. She wasn't as disgusted by that fact as she was annoyed, and she didn't even know why she was annoyed. She let the worst of her take control way too often.

She walked into the garage and shut the light on, but Jacob wasn't there. In her criminal justice classes at college, she had learned about patterns in crime scenes, and while the garage wasn't currently a crime scene as of now, she could learn a few things about where he had gone and what his condition had been like at the time.

She did some snooping, and she hadn't found anything out of the ordinary.

Well, except for enough hard liquor in order to stay wasted for a week.

And a gun.

* * *

Renesmee sat in the corner of the garage weeping so hard that her stomach hurt. She kept wiping away her tears and snot so much that it was getting harder and harder to hold on to her phone by the second. She had called her mother in a fit of sobs, and Bella had calmly told her to stay put, stay on the phone with her, and that she would be there any minute with Edward. Within five minutes that had felt like five hours, she was there. Alone, Bella entered the garage, and when she saw Renesmee, looking like a mere ball of bronze hair, she sighed in relief. _Thank God you're okay._

Bella squatted down and wrapped her arms around her daughter, who was holding the gun in her pale hands. Bella removed the gun and put it behind her so it was out of Renesmee's reach.

"What's going on, sweetie?" Bella asked.

Renesmee just continued to sob her Bambi eyes out. She heavily breathed in and out, swallowing her tears. "Jacob…" she managed to get out. "He's gone."

"He ran off again?" Bella asked.

Renesmee nodded and wiped at her eyes only for more tears to come pouring out. "He hasn't been going to therapy, either. He _lied_ to me, for _so long._"

"I'm so sorry about that."

Renesmee continued to sob, but Bella had to remain focused. "Where'd you get the gun, Ness? You have to tell me where you got it." Bella sounded more like a police officer than a nurturing mother.

"Here!" Renesmee said. "I found the stupid gun _here_, in Jake's _garage_."

"Did you find anything else? What else did you find?"

"Alcohol. A shit ton of it. It's over there." Renesmee pointed to her right.

"I'll have Jasper check it out in a second," Bella said.

"_Uncle Jasper?_" Renesmee asked. "_He's_ here?"

"Yeah."

"Where's Dad?"

Bella shrugged her shoulders. "He's not around."

"He's _never_ around," Renesmee said, giving herself a whole new reason to cry.

Jasper entered the garage and quickly scoped it out. He didn't find anything that Renesmee hadn't found; just the booze and the weapon. However, two bottles were empty. "It's more likely than not that he downed a couple bottles before he went," Jasper said, "but it doesn't look like he took anything else with him. Also, neither his car nor his bike are gone. He's on foot."

"You see?" Bella asked, still holding on to Renesmee. "Jake didn't do anything permanent. He'll be back soon."

Renesmee continued to breathe hard. "I…I just." The tears were flowing. "I just don't know if I _want_ him to come back. I feel like if he comes back, he'll… He'll kill himself."

Bella couldn't disagree or try to tell her daughter anything different.

* * *

Bella walked into the cottage living room two hours later, and Edward was at the dining room table, reading a book. Bella wanted to walk up to him and slap the book out of his hands. He hadn't wanted to go console Renesmee with Bella, so Jasper had taken his place. Edward felt plenty bad for his daughter, but he didn't want to help her due to the compelling, acceptable reason that he thought he would be useless. He didn't even try.

Bella wanted to do a million different things to him. She wanted to give him the tongue lashing of the century, and tell him that Renesmee was going to officially move out of their house and into the main one because she thought Edward hated her. (This wasn't entirely true; Renesmee just thought that Edward didn't care.)

Bella wanted to tell him that he was a fucking coward, and that she was really starting to dislike him. Based on today's daily bullshit alone, she was starting to edge into the hate side of her feelings for him. The amount of love she once had for him had been significantly cut when he had become human, and it was slowly but surely going down, down, down the drain.

Bella wanted to let him know of how dissatisfied she was with him as a person now, but she wasn't that evil. She also wasn't that strong; she could dish out all the criticism in the entire fucking world because she thought _he_ could take it (and he could, about half the time), but the second he told _her_ something honest, it was the end of the fucking world. They were too good, too weak, and too cowardly to play dirty. They were the king and queen of miscommunication, sitting on a throne of devoured feelings and false words.

So Bella just walked to the bookshelf, took out a book of her own to read, and retreated to the table. Sitting across from her, Edward asked, "So what's the rundown?"

She didn't look up from the book. "Jacob's gone again, but he had a gun and a crazy amount of booze in his garage. No one thinks he's running a bar from his garage, so it's assumed he has a drinking problem. Also, two bottles were empty, so he got drunk before he left today. Renesmee's staying in the main house for now."

"Why is she staying there instead of here?"

The passive-aggression was on the tip of her tongue. "Maybe because people will be more accountable and listen to her there."

"I think you're right," Edward said.

* * *

_**A/N:** I'm back in it. Thank you so, so, SO much for the reviews, follows, and favorites! They are always appreciated, and they always make my day. _

_Until next chapter,_

_HS_


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

"I hope you've been liking it a lot better here than at your old house," Alice said as she smoothed out the sheet on Renesmee's new bed. Instead of moving Renesmee's old things from the cottage, they had just started over. It was long past time for Renesmee to grow up and move on, even from her parents. And even though she was just moving in with her aunts and uncles and grandparents, she was still moving on.

"I have," Renesmee replied. "It's good to move on." _Maybe I can move on from Jacob, too._

Renesmee had been keeping track, and today was now day fifteen of Jacob being gone. She knew he wouldn't be back. Given two weeks, maybe he wouldn't even recognize her if he was to come back. Renesmee knew it had to hurt him, though; his love for her had to be somewhere in his DNA. But it hurt her, too, and with every passing day, she felt herself moving on little by little only to hear a vehicle pull up near the house, excitedly run up to the window overlooking the driveway, and fall disappointed to discover that it was not Jacob who was there. He had her looking absolutely crazy. Completely obsessive. He constantly haunted her, and there was nothing she could do about it but keep trying to move on.

Two weeks was a really long time for Renesmee.

Today was day fifteen, though, as well as Renesmee's birthday. She wouldn't have noticed too much if Alice hadn't showered her with hugs and gifts the second she woke up. Everybody treated Renesmee like a child, as if celebrating her birthday was a big deal. She wasn't like her mother, who would become nearly physically violent with whoever mentioned her aging back when she was human, but it wasn't something to be hyped about, especially at Renesmee's age.

Renesmee was a hundred and ten years old today. She had known Jacob for a hundred and ten years. Within a hundred and ten years, cars were adapted to be no longer powered by gasoline, there had been colonies started on Mars, and major body parts had started to be grown in labs. Jacob was by Renesmee's side for all of it - they'd seen it all. And now he was gone. Two weeks gone and pulled out of her incisor. Even though he still had to love her due to some scientific reason, she had the feeling that he wasn't thinking about her.

Because she had a party waiting for her downstairs, Renesmee took extra long to make sure her new room was perfectly in order. It was Alice who practically dragged her to the staircase. When Renesmee was halfway down, she glanced across the room, which was decked out in pink and white decorations. (She'd grown out of the color pink about a hundred years ago. Her actual favorite color was yellow.) Also, everybody was dressed up nicer than usual, like today wasn't an ordinary day. Even her parents were at the party, standing near the piano with smiles on their faces. She hadn't seen them since she moved out of the cottage. She was good at ignoring them, and they were good at being scared.

Everybody was here, but nobody important was here.

Clad in a pretty green dress, Renesmee walked down the rest of the stairs and was bombarded with "happy birthdays" and "I love yous." All filler words. The tension in the air was thick, and the veils that her family wore were thin. Everybody wanted to know something: Why has nobody been looking for Jacob? Who the hell just doesn't interact to their own daughter for a week? It was the most awkward party Renesmee had ever attended.

While she was still angry, Renesmee had missed her parents. She briefly hugged Edward, who needed to shave, and then held onto her mother for what felt like forever, her face buried in Bella's shoulder.

"I missed you, baby," Bella said into her daughter's ear.

"I missed you, too, Mom. A lot."

"Are you enjoying your birthday so far?"

"I don't know, Mom."

"Just know that I love you," Bella told Renesmee. "More than my own life."

Bella and Edward were prone to saying deep things at fairly casual settings, but before she even realized it, tears were flowing from Renesmee's eyes. She sniffled, hoping Bella wouldn't mind that she got tears on her beautiful white dress.

Once Renesmee pulled herself together the best that she could, looked back to her mother, and smiled. "How are you?" she asked.

"I'm doing well," Bella said, and she wasn't lying. Over the past two weeks, she had become less resentful. She learned that the less she spoke, the more she calmed down. The cottage had been quiet; Bella and Edward weren't partners anymore as much as they were roommates. That wasn't exactly new, however.

"I'm glad," Renesmee replied with a tinge of jealousy. She shifted her attitude before it got the best of her, a trait that she had gotten from her mother. "You know, your birthday's in only a couple of days," she reminded Bella.

Bella rolled her eyes and laughed. "Don't even get me started," she said with a wave of her hand.

"Do you have any plans?" Renesmee asked politely.

"A surprise party here seems to be the protocol," Bella said. "As usual."

Renesmee scanned the living room, filled with mingling vampires (plus her father, Rosalie, and Emmett). It was like something out of an upper class lifestyle magazine. _Rich White People Weekly. _What could they possibly have to talk about? Surely, the humans had somewhat interesting things to fill everyone in on, but what else was there? Jasper and Alice were going to visit Paris next week, but they did that nearly every other month, anyway. Rosalie and Emmett had just found "_the_ most perfect house" in Port Townsend, but Rosalie was picky. The most perfect house today would be old news next week. Renesmee didn't get it. Everybody in the house was so vapid and so very vacuous. Renesmee really wished she had actual friends right now. Friends who could offer stimulating conversation that didn't involve house restoration or shopping trips. Just people who didn't have the characteristics of socialites.

"As usual," Renesmee agreed with her mother. "It's a shame you don't like pink that much. We could just reuse all these decorations." _And stop associating all of these pink things with me._

"Alice would never allow it," Bella said with a smile.

"Of course not."

"Excuse me." Alice was suddenly at Renesmee's side, and had her cool hands on her forearms. She started to turn Renesmee away from Bella and slowly walk her through the living room and to the kitchen. Renesmee looked back at Bella with a surprised expression, mouthing, _What's going on?_ Bella just smiled.

"Why do you feel the need to be so physical?" Renesmee asked.

"I don't feel the need at all, but I have a present for you," Alice said.

"Aunt Alice, you've already given me so much," Renesmee said courteously. "A completely furnished new room, a new wardrobe _and_ shoes… what else could you possibly have for me?"

They walked past the kitchen and towards the garage entrance. "Oh, just a little something for my favorite niece," Alice said sweetly. "I think you'll like this the best."

"Oh, really, now?"

"Really."

Alice opened the door to the garage, which was pitch black. Clearly, Renesmee was about to receive a new car.

"What happened to my old car?" Renesmee asked.

"Nothing," Alice said curtly. Then she commanded, "Jacob."

Alice flicked on the light switch, and Jacob walked towards Renesmee, wearing a white shirt and silver tie with charcoal pants, holding a bouquet of yellow tulips. His hair was freshly cut, and his face was freshly shaven. He looked entirely put together, except his eyes were tired. He didn't look drunk; just tired. But his smile was as genuine and white as ever.

"Happy birthday, Ness."

Alice went back to the party and closed the door.

Renesmee simultaneously fell to pieces and became whole.

* * *

She didn't speak to him until they were in the garage. By this point, she really did hate the place. She didn't hate Jacob, though. He wasn't as hateful as he was confusing, but he couldn't help it.

In the garage, where nothing but the alcohol and gun had been touched, Renesmee pulled a plastic chair from a corner and dragged it to the center of the room. Jacob got another chair and did the same.

She asked the most basic question first. "When did you get back?"

His voice was even tired. "Last night, around midnight."

"I was awake around midnight," she said. "Where were you between then and just now, at my party?"

He shook his head. "Ness, it's not-"

"Important?" she demanded. "How in the _hell_ would that not be important? Jake, you can't lie to me. Not now. Not again."

"Okay," he said. He said "okay" again, but firmly.

"So where were you?" she asked again like the demanding, untrusting girlfriend.

"Alice found me last night, actually. She made me stay in a hotel that night and get cleaned up the next day. She wanted me to come back home on your birthday."

"So she staged everything, right? That is so like her, making a big show out of everything."

"I wouldn't say she did that," he said. "I just happened to be home the day before - well, the day of - your birthday."

"Why did you even come back?" Renesmee's tone was biting.

"Two weeks is a really long time," Jacob murmured.

"You could have stayed gone, though," she said, "if that was what you really wanted. I wouldn't be mad. I wouldn't get my little feelings hurt."

"You don't have to lie to me," he told her.

She held her tongue. He stared past her, at the garage exit.

"Were you going to kill yourself?" she asked quietly.

His gaze stayed the same. "I think we both know the answer to that one."

"And when you weren't sure about when to do it, when you felt like staying alive for just a little while, you drank, right?"

He nodded.

"And instead of going to therapy, you were getting wasted in here or running off, either already wasted or planning to get wasted?"

"You've got me all figured out."

She nodded. "Almost."

"What else do you need to know to have me fully cracked, Ness?"

"I need to know why. Why you felt the need to get drunk off your ass or try to kill yourself."

He took a moment to think. "It's not that simple," he replied. "It didn't just happen last month. It's been building up for years. And.-" He stopped himself. "I am just so sorry."

"No," she said. "Stop being sorry just for today. Just tell me. You already know how I feel, and I feel horrible. I need to know how you feel, Jake."

"Renesmee, I love you. I love you so, so much, but I've been suffering. You'll never fully know how I feel because you've never had to go to every one of your friend's funerals. You'll never have to be disconnected from your family and straight up _lose_ yourself. Ness, you'll never be just as fucked up as I am, which is a good thing, but you'll just never get it. Not because you're young or this or that or whatever, but because you'll never be there. Thank God you'll never be where I am, but I've been this way for a long time and there's no resolution for it but suicide.

I'm glad to have imprinted on you - I really, really am - but let's be real: this magic bullshit does not heal everything. I'm living, breathing proof of that. The sooner you stop believing the imprint will mend every issue I've ever had, the easier it will be for you to say goodbye. And I don't want to say goodbye, Renesmee, but I don't want to suffer anymore. The more I suffer, the more you suffer, and that _kills_ me. You're not the reason why I'm like this, though; imprinting is. You're one of the best things to ever happen to me, but I just… I just wish this - _we_ \- happened the normal way. You know what I mean? I still love you, but I'm gonna have to be selfish for a little while so you can live. Honey, I want you to live. I love you, and I want you to live."

Renesmee sat motionless. Her reactions came in waves; sometimes she felt nothing, but other times she felt everything. She could have sat there for seconds or days. There was no way to tell.

"We are so fucking stuck," she said. Her eyes fell on his, and tears had just escaped his brown pools, dripping down his lips, off his chin, and onto his shirt. She couldn't find herself wanting to cry with him, though, and not because she was selfish; she was merely all out of tears.

"I know," he whispered.

She stood up and closed the space between him, wrapping her arms around his head. His face was at her chest and his hands were at the small of her back. He breathed her in deeply. _In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four._

"Live with me," she told him. "For now."

He pointed his head up and met his lips with hers, wet and salty meeting dry and sweet. He held her there, still, and she blushed so much that for a second, she thought she was on fire. She opened her mouth and gasped before kissing him back with equal amounts of certainty and uncertainty.

She straddled him to get even closer and then tossed her bronze waves over her shoulder. Renesmee rolled her hips and moaned when Jacob cupped her pert ass with his hands, and she was nearly positive that she was on fire. She was practically in hell.

Much to her own surprise, though, neither of them did anything to alter it. They simply burned.

* * *

Four days later, Renesmee placed four pills - two yellow, one blue, and one white - down in front of Jacob, next to his glass of water and dinner plate. She smiled at him sheepishly, hoping he'd be a good sport about his new medication routine. This time, Carlisle prescribed it, and Carlisle was a genius so it was a given that Jacob's new medication would be even a little effective.

Since Jacob came home, he had fallen apart and picked himself back up again the best that he could. Renesmee had done the same. And while he was still haunted, adapting to the real world again - the world outside his head - wasn't very difficult anymore. He was doing so well that Renesmee could cry, but she got her hopes up so easily. Even though she and Jacob had been mostly honest with each other since he returned, she was still easy at accepting lies much better than the truth, and the truth was that Jacob just might not change no matter their efforts, but they could try just a little bit, for the hell of it. Her father had once tried something new for the hell of it, and he was now happier than ever.

Jacob smiled back at Renesmee, graciously accepting the little chances of happiness. "Thanks, Ness," he said.

She nodded, proud of them both. She was doing the right thing, being the right girlfriend. It was a lot less _I love you enough that I'll help your crazy ass stop being so fucking crazy_ and a lot more _Baby, I love your crazy ass no matter what._

Left without any real solutions besides Carlisle's impermanent help, they had fallen into not thinking about the future and simply living. Stripped of morals, right and wrong were no longer real for Jacob and Renesmee. Those terms didn't matter. They were going to live. They were being pretty fake about it all, but they were living nonetheless.

With more pride than necessary, Renesmee reflected on what he had said to her the day after her birthday.

"I need something from you," Jacob had said, "if we're gonna make this work." (What was _this_? She had no idea.)

"Anything."

"I need you to be my best friend more than my girlfriend right now, okay?"

It was so like him to say confusing things like this right after they had made out and nearly had sex in his garage. "Jake, of course."

"Thank you." His voice had been icy, stoic.

"You consider me your girlfriend?" she'd asked.

He didn't have to hesitate. "Yes."

"I'll be your best friend, then," she'd promised him. "For now."

A warm smile had spread across his face, and it was real.. "Thank you."

She'd pulled him into a hug so tight that it wasn't meant for letting go. "Don't thank me," she'd whispered. "I should have done this a long time ago."

Now she was doing the right thing. They both were. Three days had passed, and they were back at it, whatever _it_ was. All she knew was that he wasn't going to kill himself. He was going to live.

She just wished the past three days didn't haunt her so much. Everything would just be so much more believable if they didn't.

* * *

_**A/N: **__Thank you for your patience and attention as usual. Feedback is always appreciated._

_Until the next update,_

_HS_


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

"Porch swing installed," Edward said proudly. "Check."

"Perfect sunset," Bella added as they both sat down on the newly-installed swing. "Check."

He draped his arm over her shoulder and nuzzled into her. "Woman of my dreams," he murmured. "Check, check, check." He began to graze his lips along her neck politely, but not as neatly as it could have been.

"You're gonna miss the sunset," she warned him as she carefully put her hands in his hair before he felt the need to remove them.

"Just another twilight," he said with a shrug. "I've got plenty of those."

The disagreement edged toward the tip of her tongue. _You'd have more if you changed back._ Instead, she held her tongue. There was no need to be hostile right here, right now.

He planted soft, warm kisses along her cheeks and neck. Since things had been heavier concerning Renesmee and Jacob, Edward and Bella had grown lighter. Too much darkness would be overwhelming for everybody.

Bella and Edward talked a little more, and touched a little more. He didn't have a huge problem with her touching him as long as she followed the golden rule: _he_ was only allowed to do most of the touching. When she didn't move, things worked just fine. He didn't end up bruised and she didn't end up feeling shameful.

Bella, stiff as a board, had gone over the motions in her head tens of hundreds of thousands of times, and she was finally brave and mature enough to let it go a bit. Hostility had taken over her, and it was far past time to abandon it. She was a fighter and always had been one when it came to the serious things, but she knew Edward enough to know that he didn't like to lose. Way deep down, Edward hated to lose. He would fight till the death, and he would fight dirty, where it really got under her seemingly impenetrable skin. How could Bella ever compete with that? It was terrifying - absolutely treacherous - to think about, but she knew him enough. She knew him and could get under his skin just as much, but she never should have thought she was going to win.

So she let him win. Every chaste kiss to the cheek and neck was a little ribbon or trophy for him; he got to have her however he wanted, in the dosages of his choosing. _What a villain._

Bella watched the late-September sunset. They only had so long until the leaves would shed from the trees to get ready for winter, and she didn't want to miss it. Living vicariously through Edward's mortality, she liked to watch the sunsets and daybreaks these days. He liked her best when she enjoyed the little human simplicities with him. He might have even loved her.

He stopped kissing her and turned to watch the sunset. It was a little hard to do because of the trees in the way, but still very possible. He continued to have his arm around her shoulder, and she snuggled her cheek up to his dark blue cotton shirt under his black windbreaker.

"When you say I'm the woman of your dreams," Bella began, "is it because you actually dream of me?"

"I do," Edward replied.

"Is that what you love the most about being human? Dreaming?"

"Yes, absolutely. It's one of my favorite parts of being human."

"Parts?" Bella asked with raised eyebrows. "You mean you haven't decided on _just_ one thing yet?"

"As in, I haven't decided that dreaming of you is my favorite part?" Edward challenged playfully.

"You said it, not me," she said defensively. "But enlighten me. What are you favorite parts, aside from dreaming?"

"Well, there's finally feeling warm, as well as sleeping. I love being able to sit here on the porch swing during the sunset with you, and actually feel it. I feel everything now. And of course, dreaming of you. My dreams are always about you now that I can have them. Those are some of the top things."

_Reasonable, since you're you. _"Tell me your favorite."

"And you won't get mad?" he asked warily.

_Shit, at least you still care._ "I won't get mad," she promised. "I don't get mad about all that anymore, and you already know that. So tell me your favorite part of being human. Just one thing."

"I love to eat more than anything else."

They both busted out into a fit of laughter, on the porch swing, as the sun set. It was Edward's perfect dream, and Bella's now adequate reality. And it worked, even though it didn't. And that was so amazing to both of them.

Once the laughs died down along with the sky, Bella looked up and stared at Edward's profile, and she realized he wasn't plain anymore. He wasn't as gorgeous as he had been prior to last March, but he was still somewhat beautiful. With a slight tan from summer and some brown stubble along his jaw and chin, he wasn't the smooth, marble-white man she had fallen in love with; he was far from it. But he was still beautiful, just in a different way. She could accept that. Maybe she could even accept him, even though this would never, ever replace the image she had initially fallen for.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her. At least that hadn't changed; he still didn't have the slightest clue of what was going on in her head, and for now, it was for the better.

"I'm thinking of how beautiful you are," she told him.

"Right now, when I'm human?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Back in your day, you could have had nearly anyone you wanted. Anybody in the whole world, when I think about it."

He finally turned to look at her. "Bella, my whole world is right here with me."

She made herself believe him, and she considered herself lucky.

She also considered herself loved again. She never would have thought that would happen once she let go of her malevolence, and that was a beautiful, amazing thing to her.

* * *

_**A/N: **That was just a short, light, not-that-angsty moment to get out of the way. Also, according to my plot sheets, we're almost halfway through the story, since Act I is almost done. Bear with me. There's more to this to just angst. (There is also drama.)_

_Until the next update (which should be pretty soon),_

_HS_


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

"Sometimes I wish I could have taken the more classic route of all this," Rosalie said, sitting in a chair in Carlisle's home infirmary. "You know, like older times. Pee on a stick, see two lines form, jump up and down and start screaming."

"I think the older thing would be carrying on life as usual," Alice replied, "except you're getting bigger for months and later end up giving natural birth in the woods. _That's_ classic."

Emmett waited a beat before responding. Rosalie just raised an eyebrow. "Thanks, Alice," he said.

"Oh, you guys know I love you."

Rosalie, Alice, and Emmett chatted while Bella found herself more anxious than her blonde sister-in-law. Carlisle was running a scan pregnancy test for Rosalie, and the outcome could go one of two possible ways: Rosalie could be pregnant and live a lovely, lively, even more human life; or Rosalie could not be pregnant and accuse Carlisle's remedy of not being legitimate. Fertility was all that she had really been in for, anyway, besides growing old and gray, and then dying of a stroke. For Rosalie to not be pregnant now would be a nightmare, though. What could she blame the mood swings on that was just as endearing as a pregnancy?

Carlisle returned from a back room with a smile on his face. "Congratulations, Rosalie and Emmett. You're six weeks pregnant."

Rosalie cried and hugged Bella. She also cried and hugged Bella on the front porch of her new house, three days later. Bella had never been around somebody so happy for so long. It almost made her wish her own pregnancy hadn't been so grotesque and supernatural.

Rosalie and Emmett were as pretty as a picture as they stood on their front porch of "_the_ most perfect house" in Port Townsend, with orange and red October leaves surrounding them. Yesterday, Rosalie had legally decided to go by Rosalie Hale-Cullen, to be more connected to Emmett, and more devoted. Officially moved into their new house and residents of Port Townsend, they were brand-new. It was dissociating.

It was even more dissociating when Bella hugged Rosalie and Emmett goodbye. It wasn't a permanent goodbye, but "You can always visit us - we're two hours away, not two continents!" actually meant "Please don't alter our most human experience in any way."

On the drive back to Forks, Bella felt like something was missing. It was Rosalie and Emmett. When they had changed back in March, they hadn't been lost or even missed. They still lived in the main house and talked with everybody nearly everyday. But something as simple as a pregnancy had driven them away; it was like they had been waiting for the perfect opportunity.

All Bella needed was for Edward to be gone, and then she'd be completely empty.

* * *

The remaining Cullens (plus Jacob) had gotten home from Port Townsend at twilight. Everybody except Bella and Edward went to the main house, but the outcasts retreated to their porch swing.

What he said wasn't a question or even a suggestion; it was a command. "Live with me."

"Isn't that what we're doing?" she asked, watching the sunset. "Aren't we living?"

"No, Bella. Be human with me. Please. If you don't like it, you can always go back. You can go back whenever you want as long as you try it."

_How fucking dare you. _She felt the ticks. She was about to go off like a time bomb, but she knew that couldn't happen. She turned to look at him. "Edward," she said, her voice soft, "it's not safe. Carlisle said so himself - remember that? He doesn't think it's safe to go back and forth, and I believe him."

"But, Bella," he said, "we could live like how things would have been. Porch swing, iced tea… the simplicity."

"I'm not taking that chance," she gently asserted.

"But if it was completely safe, would you?" he challenged.

She couldn't lie to him now. "No," she said. "I would not want to do that under any circumstances."

"Can I ask you why?"

"No, Edward," she said sharply, "let me ask _you_ why. Why the _hell_ are you living so much in the past? Porch swings, iced tea, watching the fucking sunset… Why does that matter so much to you now? You're clinging to the past, and I don't like that. There's nothing to avoid now, so I can't see why you keep running back to your little fantasy land as if what you have here isn't perfectly fine."

He wasn't usually one to dance around answers, but she didn't know what to expect with him anymore. "I could ask you the same question, Bella," he started. "Why does being immortal matter so much to you? What is it? Is it the invincibility, the looks, or something else?"

It was like 20 Questions or something. "Why are you talking to me like I'm stupid all of a sudden?" she demanded, even though he exposed her principal reasons for wanting immortality, besides getting to be with him forever, but that need was somewhat gone now.

"You could have easily fooled me."

She glowered at him.

"Okay, that's not what I meant," he said calmly.

"It sounded like it, though." A storm was brewing inside her - she could feel it.

"Bella, I want you to try. Just try. Remember when I tried for you?"

"Yeah," Bella said. "Under _your_ one condition. Marriage isn't a little thing, you know."

"Well, neither is this. All I want is for you to try it once."

"So let's say I do try," she says. "I try it, and I hate it. I can't go back, though. Then what?"

"Then…" He sighed. "Then you'll hate me for the rest of your life, and I'll accept it."

"That's not even remotely fair. You're already pretty good at self-loathing."

"Then… Then I don't know, Bella. All I want is for you to try it, though. Just once."

"No," she established.

"So that's it," he stated. "You'd rather be pretty, right?"

"Sure," she said sarcastically. "It's not like I was ever too ecstatic to spend the rest of forever with you or anything. I'd much rather be beautiful." Under the sarcastic tone, she wasn't entirely exaggerating at the moment.

"And it's not like you wouldn't have left me so quickly after turning if it weren't for Renesmee, right?" he shot. It was a blow to knees. The worst thing about it was that he was right.

"This is ridiculous," she said, shutting the bomb down before it blew up in her face. She lowered her voice. "You've had your fun, Edward. You've gotten a little tan and fallen asleep and had dreams and sat on your fucking porch swing with a glass of iced tea to watch the sunset, but I think that if you really loved me, you'd go back. Just consider that."

"As long as you consider being human with me," he replied, "then I'll consider that."

And it was then that he realized that he had truly picked mortality over Bella. It was ugly and malicious, but it was clear.

"Edward," she groaned. "I can't fight with you like this forever. As long as you're human, you don't have the time. You know what the better option is, don't you? I know you're a smart man; I need you to make the smart decision."

She suddenly grabbed his hand, and he flinched. "See," she said. "You live in fear as long as you live like this. I hardly remember what it was like to really touch you, and I hate that. I also hate the fact that you have to sleep and eat and everything. I feel like I've lost you. Even though you try to tell me all this stuff about how I still have you, I don't have you anymore. And I want you, Edward. I want you more than ever. I need you."

She had poured what was left of her heart right there onto the porch, and he just stared at the mess.

Frustrated, she wanted to cry. She wanted to project all her emotions onto him just so he could have some empathy. But his head was so empty that he didn't know how people worked anymore. She shouldn't have expected him to show even a hint of emotion.

"I'm sorry," he told her. He didn't have anything malevolent to say. He was just sorry - but not sorry enough to show any emotion.

"Why don't you ever cry?" she mumbled, staring into his dry, green eyes.

"Because I know you'd never forgive me for it."

He was right. As much as she wanted him to be more passionate, she would hate to see her cry. Her pride would just get in the way, and she would be jealous.

"Dammit, I am so sorry," he said, as if it would change anything.

"Yeah?" Her voice quivered, but no tears would ever come out.

He took her hand, as cold and hard as a stone to him, and squeezed it lightly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Bella, I'm sorry."

He had a lot to apologize for, but she lacked the patience to hear it all, and he lacked the humility to give it all. She bit her lip. "I know," she said. "You better be."

He held her hand up to his cheek, warm and pink, even in the October cold. "I am," he said.

"You should be."

And he wanted to kiss her—how much he wanted to kiss her was both a strain and a relief to him, all because he still wanted her. Even as she had promised she would be a problem, as much as she was currently behaving like one, as much as he knew it hurt, he still wanted her because he had wanted her for so long. It was difficult to no longer want the person he had wanted since what felt like the beginning of time, and it would be difficult to tell her all of this since she wouldn't believe a portion of it. He had let his pride get in the way too many times to be remotely genuine anymore.

Through all the time that had passed, Bella had changed. She had changed more than Edward had, and he wasn't even immortal anymore.

The Bella he'd known hadn't doubted him as much as she did now, and she had never mistrusted him as much as she did now, either. Her reaction to him now was what it should have been when they'd first met—he would now take it thankfully for her to purposely stay away. It was as if the self-hatred that had nearly disappeared with time and pride was gone, and was now being replaced with Bella's vindictive feelings toward him.

Edward kissed the back of her hand. "Don't hate me," he whispered. "Don't hate me. You're the last person who can hate me."

Bella knit her brow and shook her head. "I don't hate you."

"Don't," he said. "Don't hate me now."

If only he knew that she was far past hating him.

Then he told her to not be sad. He was always telling her to not be something - always shrinking her. Even though he was human, he was crushing her now more than ever.

"Please don't be sad."

He couldn't even read her mind anymore, but he knew. It was incredible. He was also dead wrong.

"I'm not sad," she said with a very slight movement of her mouth, almost resembling a smile. And what she said was actually true. She wasn't just _sad_; she was far past that, too. She'd been _sad_ when he'd initially told her of his desire to be human. What was sadness now, but a slight fraction of what true pain and sorrow could truly be? Bella wished for something as comparably light as sadness. She would kill for it.

"You know I still want you," he told her. "I just can't determine how."

"You can really kiss me if you want to," she said, trying not to think of the blood in his cheeks, his lips, his hands, his everything. "I'll be careful," she added, not sure if she could trust her own words. Hopefully he would, but they were prone to taking chances.

He bit his bottom lip, and even though he wasn't beautiful anymore—because once she had seen perfection, anything less was instantly ugly—he was a faint sight of what he had used to be. Then he shut his eyes, and the harsh, green reminders of his selfishness and pride were put away momentarily. Venom stung in Bella's eyes like tears would.

"I can't try it," he said. "Not again."

It was so clear.

He didn't like her as much as she loved him. He wasn't willing to take the chances she had taken with him. He valued himself and his own human pride more than their love. He didn't trust her—he didn't trust anything about her. Nobody could call Bella selfish now, though, because Edward had snatched the first place trophy away from her.

"It's okay," she said. _Deception is okay, too._

Edward's denial of Bella was a lot of things—upsetting, disappointing, and annoying, to begin to describe it—but nonetheless, it was frustrating.

Bella had never been hard to love. With how her life had gone so far, she knew that being loved was easy for her. Yet now, she was hard to love—almost as hard as it was to love Edward solely for his personality. And she wasn't demanding much; she just wanted to be softer to him. Even though everything had been demolished, going from zero to one hundred (and real quick), she still wanted him. She wanted to be loved like she wasn't made of stone. Being treated humanely shouldn't be a huge request.

Then he opened his eyes and stared down and into her topaz ones. It was a horrible clash—Bella hated everything about it.

And then he pressed his soft, warm lips to her forehead.

She wanted a lot of things, but above else, she wanted to die. Living in a world that didn't involve Edward Cullen loving her the most that he could wasn't a world she wanted to be a part of. She didn't want to suffer in that world a second time.

_Don't you know? _she wanted to ask him. _Don't you know that all the stars shine for you? All the stars in the sky shine just for you and nobody else and you choose to admire the earth and all its naturalness and blandness. You don't reach for the stars, where you belong; you don't know everything that you are._

He could destroy her, and she would graciously let him all because he still deserved better.

She was reminded of a time so long ago, a time almost as depressing as this one, when she'd been literally dying for Renesmee to live. Edward had been angry, claiming Bella had not given a choice, but wasn't this just the same? She didn't have a choice at all now. Didn't he know that?

"You chose wrong," she murmured to Edward. "You chose to leave me."

He still had his lips to her forehead, and a part of her knew that he was saying goodbye, too, until he kissed her on the lips, and really kissed her. It was an open-mouthed, danger-zone kiss. The kind of kiss where they couldn't keep from moaning. It was fatal now, but it was home, and she loved it. He made her feel like how he used to: classic.

_We were so crazy, stupid, reckless, timeless in love,_ she wanted to tell him. _We were everything. _

And for the moment, they were _crazy_ in love, _stupid_ in love, _reckless_ in love, and _timeless_ in love. For the moment, they were _everything_.

When she tasted his sweet, warm blood gushing into her mouth only seconds later, she knew that everything couldn't exist in their world again.

Everything was too reckless for his own good.

* * *

**_A/N: _**_I don't know about you, but I love it when shit hits the fan. I'm pretty dramatic._

_Until next chapter,_

_HS_


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

There was so much blood on Bella's hands that she almost dropped her phone while dialing Carlisle. He was a smart man, though; he knew that something was up when someone in the family called him instead of came to him.

"What is happening?" he asked when he picked up the phone.

Her voice was bleak. "I think I may have killed my husband," she told him.

Carlisle, along with the rest of the family, was at the cottage in a matter of seconds. When Edward was brought inside, Renesmee stayed outside. She was sick to her stomach. Bella was, too, but it would be villainous for her to nearly kill him by accident and not try to help out with his revival.

Bella stood next to Carlisle as he quickly started the blood transfusions. "Is he turning?" she asked.

"No, no," Carlisle replied. "He's lost too much blood. If we don't get enough blood into him quickly, then he'll die."

"What can I do to help?"

"Go outside with Renesmee. You've done enough."

* * *

Bella and Renesmee stood in the backyard with yards between them. Renesmee could hardly see her in the slight moonlight.

"Is he gonna be like you when he's good again?" Renesmee asked.

Bella shook her head. "No. He's not turning - he's dying."

"Did you try to kill him on purpose?" The execution of the question was very blunt.

Bella furrowed her brow. "Ness, _no_. I slipped up. It was a complete accident. Do you really think I'm that evil?"

"No, I just…" Renesmee crossed her arms. "I just know things have been hard for you, and I know you still don't like Dad's decision. I feel like…"

"Like what?" Bella demanded.

Renesmee's brown eyes widened. "Like it was only a matter of time before he got seriously hurt, whether it was an accident or not."

"What are you trying to say, Renesmee?"

"Mom, do you remember that one night last July, when we were talking, and I said you weren't a monster?"

"Of course I remember."

"I think you _are_ a monster."

* * *

Carlisle didn't leave the cottage until two thirty in the morning, and he took an unconscious Edward with him. "He's going to be fine," he told Bella, "but he'll need to rest for two to three days. The stitches in his mouth are going to take some healing."

Relief swept over Bella. She closed her eyes. "Thank you so much, Carlisle."

"Of course, Bella."

And then Bella was alone in the cottage. After deep cleaning it so there were no traces of Edward's blood anywhere, she asked Renesmee, Alice, Esme, and Jasper to stay with her, but they all refused. Bella didn't even bothered asking Jacob to give her company - he was still on suicide watch.

She was just a dragon left alone in her tower; everybody wanted to avoid the flames.

_I didn't do it on purpose. It was an accident. I'm not a monster._

She wished she was human just for tonight so she could sleep it all off. It was so easy to avoid reality's harshness for eight, nine, ten hours, but not awake.

_It was an accident. I didn't do it on purpose. It was an accident. _

Being left alone with her thoughts would drive her crazy. It was like nobody could see that, or nobody cared.

_I'm not a monster._

She didn't deserve to be treated like a prisoner.

_I'm not a fucking monster._

She was a monster, but she didn't deserve to be treated like one.

_I'm a fucking monster._

* * *

The next two months carried on quietly for Renesmee. Every moment was dissociating; it was really difficult to tell what was real and what wasn't real, so she didn't try to think about it.

All she knew was that her parents weren't talking with or touching or seeing each other, and that her father lived in the main house. Her mother had been unofficially exiled to the cottage. Rosalie and Emmett knew of her father's last accident, and they had to be grateful that they were no longer in Forks. It wasn't human enough for them, and it was far too reckless.

Renesmee also knew that she did, in fact, want to be with Jacob, as well as try to accept his depression. The act that they'd had going on since September was too fake for her, but she still wanted to do her best. But even then, she still didn't belong anywhere. Jacob's caretaker was not her job. She didn't truly belong with a werewolf, she couldn't coexist with her human family members, and she still felt excluded from the vampires. What was she supposed to want? What was she supposed to choose?

With the weight of the world on her shoulders, she decided to take a day for herself and away from her mess of a family in December. She told her fully-recovered father that she was going to visit Rosalie and Emmett as a surprise, and then she was off to Port Townsend. Two hours wasn't far enough, but it would do.

Upon ringing the doorbell, Renesmee knew that she had made the right decision. Every time she entered her own house in Forks, it was silent. Scary silent. When she rang the doorbell at Rosalie and Emmett's house in Port Townsend, she heard the television and sounds of excitement and "Oh, who could _that_ be?"

Emmett answered the door, and his face lit up when he saw Renesmee. He looked brand-new. (Renesmee had forgotten that he had to wear glasses since his human eyesight was so bad.)

"Rose," he called behind him. "We've got company."

Rosalie wrapped a robe around herself as she walked to the front door, and her face lit up, too. She gave Renesmee a soft, warm hug and pulled her inside. The house was pristine. Vacuum cleaner lines were in the pearly white carpet, and there wasn't a hint of dust anywhere. Rosalie was living out her housewife fantasy.

Renesmee and Rosalie sat on the sofa, and Emmett sat on the loveseat across from them. Rosalie held her niece's hands; she missed her so much.

"How are you?" Rosalie asked, her blue eyes focused on Renesmee's brown ones. "How are things back in Forks?"

"They're fine, I guess," Renesmee replied.

"How's Edward?" Emmett asked. "Did he have a speedy recovery?"

Renesmee nodded, looking at Emmett. "Yeah, he recovered really fast."

"I still feel so bad about what happened," Rosalie said.

"Don't," Renesmee said. "It's not your fault, anyway. But enough about that. How are you?"

Rosalie proudly put a hand on her fourteen weeks baby bump. "Pregnant," she said with an enormous smile on her face.

"The baby's healthy as hell," Emmett said, and Rosalie nodded.

"Do you guys have any names in mind?" Renesmee wondered.

"Evelyn if it's a girl," Rosalie said, "and Walter if it's a boy."

_Two of the most popular names of the 1920s,_ Renesmee thought. _Of course._ "Do you hope it's gonna be a girl or a boy?"

"It's gonna be a boy," Emmett asserted.

"Shut up," Rosalie said playfully. "It it's a girl, you'll love her just the same."

Rosalie was so much happier now that she was human, and so was Emmett. To Renesmee, it was incredible.

* * *

The three of them ate lunch and watched two movies on television. When the credits rolled during the second film, Renesmee stood up and went to the front door to put her shoes on.

"Leaving already?" Rosalie asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Renesmee replied. "Gotta get back to the crazy parts of the family. This was nice, though. I really needed that."

"You know," Emmett said, "you can always stay with us if you need to figure some things out, or just wanna get away from everyone else."

"Thank you so much."

"I do hope you visit again before the baby is born," Rosalie told Renesmee.

"Me, too. Promise you'll visit Forks at Christmas?"

Rosalie smiled genuinely. "I promise."

Renesmee loved them - she truly did. And she wanted to get away from her Forks family more often, too, but Port Townsend just wasn't far enough. Two hours was nothing.

The second she got back into her car, she knew where she needed to go. Two hours away just didn't beat two days away.

In the cold December night, Renesmee drove hard and fast. She was off to Denali, and she couldn't see herself turning back any time soon. It was the best decision she could make.

**End of Act I**

* * *

_**A/N: **We're now halfway through the story. I think I wanna finish this sometime in April. Let's roll. Also, thank you SO much for the follows, favorites, and reviews. They fuel me.  
_

_Until next time,_

_HS._


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Act II: Year 2129**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Why did Rosalie and Emmett decide to move to Bellevue again?" Edward wondered aloud, fighting the urge to rub his eyes as he stared at the dark highway.

"Maybe they needed to be further away," Alice replied, looking out her window. She sat in the passenger seat, with Jasper behind her. "I wouldn't want to raise a child so close to us, either. We're crazy."

Edward yawned. "Funny, Alice."

"Take a joke, Edward."

"You're not obligated to drive," Jasper reminded Edward. "If you're getting too tired, I'll drive."

Edward shook his head. "No, no," he said. "I'll be just fine. Bellevue is just a little too far. Four hours is a long time."

"We could've taken the CL-110," Alice told him. "It'd be a lot quicker."

"Flying cars," Edward said with a guffaw. "Too modern for my tastes."

"You're so old-fashioned, Edward," Alice said. "Live for now."

"Trust me," he said. "I am."

* * *

Bella sat in the other car with Carlisle, Esme, and Jacob. It was silent. Since she had been banished from interacting with anybody even slightly more vulnerable than her for thirteen years like the monster she was, Bella was surprised that they even let her come out to play. They were just visiting Rosalie and Emmett, but those faces would be the newest she'd seen in a while. She saw Edward maybe once a day, while everybody else was around, but it was like she was in prison, and Edward had visiting hours. She hadn't even seen her daughter in thirteen years since she had run away. And knowing Renesmee, she wouldn't want to be found or even looked for, while it was still clear that she was in Denali. She had nowhere else to go, and she wasn't very brave.

Everybody was gone, and so was Bella. Shrunken and excluded and quiet and broken, she could just disappear. Denali didn't seem like a bad place to go.

* * *

Bellevue wasn't very interesting. The Cullens celebrated a week early Christmas with Rosalie, Emmett, and their twelve-year-old son Walter. He had Emmett's hair and Rosalie's face, as well as a lot of love for his extended family. He knew he had aunts and uncles and grandparents; he didn't know he had one cousin (and the only cousin he would _ever_ have in his life), though, because she was gone. Long gone.

Walter got all the love and all the presents, so the celebration was a success, but Bella found herself distant. Edward stayed far back, too, but nowhere near Bella. They were one and the same, but they chose - _he_ chose - to coexist without each other. The whereabouts of their daughter were on both of their minds, but they couldn't bring her up without immediately blaming each other. It was all _he said, she said_ at this point. So they coexisted separately.

It was a fucked up holiday.

* * *

Early Christmas morning, Bella found herself lonelier than ever. She planned on spending the day with most of her family in the main house, but she was far too empty and far too removed. Maybe she felt this way because it was the first Christmas in a long time that she was positive Renesmee wasn't coming home. All hope was completely gone now.

Besides Renesmee, Bella missed her parents the most. She knew she had lost it when she started calling them. The numbers had been disconnected a long time ago, but Bella dialed the ones she had last known, anyway, starting with her mother's.

Into the dead line, Bella started weeping. "I'm so sorry, Mom," she said. "I wish I could tell you I'm sorry, and I love you. I wish I talked to you more. Phone calls weren't enough. I could have visited a hundred different times. I could have stayed indoors. I didn't have to disappear after my wedding. I didn't have to lie or make excuses. I love you, Mom. I wish you could teach me how to be a wife, to be happily married. I'm failing, Mom, I'm a fucking failure. I'm so sorry. I love you and I'm sorry. I wanna be happy, Mom. I wanna do this _right_. I love you, I love you, I love you. I'm sorry."

She apologized sixty-seven more times before calling Charlie's old number, and she weeped even harder, wishing she could cry just so her weeps meant something. "Dad," she said. "Thank you. Thank you for raising me right in the best way you could, raising me so I didn't have to run away. Thank you for not being a fucking trainwreck like I am now, and bringing your kid into your bullshit. I love you, and I'm sorry. I don't know how to raise a person. I drove the only child I'll ever have away. I didn't take care of her enough. I didn't love her enough. I'm sorry. Thank you for taking care of me, and loving me. I'm sorry."

Bella later realized that the worst part of all of this was that being happily married and successfully raising a child could not coexist. That was definitely the worst part.

She sobbed "I'm sorry" until they were practically screams, and her phone was long dead. In the middle of her sobs, Edward - of all people - burst into the cottage and rushed to where she sat in front of her window. He wrapped his arms around her like she wasn't made of stone, and ruffled her hair like he still loved her, trying to calm her down. She whimpered "I'm sorry" into his chest, and he didn't tell her that there was nothing to be sorry for. He didn't tell her that nothing was real. Instead, he told her that it was okay, and that she was going to be okay.

* * *

Within hours, she was okay, and no longer as dissociated as she had been. Edward stayed with her until the sun went up. He didn't try to give her advice or anything; he understood.

When his stomach growled, Bella expected him to leave, but to her surprise, he stayed. For the first time in thirteen years, Edward decided to eat breakfast at the cottage. It was more Bella's house than anything now, but thirteen years was a long time to be angry and frightened, even for them. She was usually around for his meal times, but it was never just the two of them. Not since the accident.

Once she got herself together, Bella pulled out all the big guns for Edward. Even though she hardly knew him anymore, she still loved him and hoped he was okay because maybe he felt the same way about her, based on his actions earlier. She couldn't ignore that background feeling; it would always be there no matter how hard she tried.

"Coffee?" she asked him.

"Yes, please."

She poured coffee into his mug and then sat down across from him at the table. Watching him eat, she couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. He looked about thirty years old now, and he had aged well. He longer looked like the seventeen-year-old boy that she had fallen for in high school; he looked like a man now, with stubble and a more prominent jaw line. He was brand-new. It both dazzled and dizzied Bella.

When he was finished eating, he put his plate away, and he didn't leave. Instead, he sat on the couch, hoisting his feet up onto the glass coffee table. This morning was full of surprises for Bella. He started to get comfortable as he turned on the TV. _A Christmas Story_ was on. A classic.

"The Christmas celebration's waiting," she reminded him. The longer he stayed, the longer she'd ache, and the more upset she'd be.

"That can wait for a minute, can't it?" he asked.

She turned down the television. Then she crossed her arms and looked down at him as she stood. "What's going on, Edward?"

"It's Christmas," he said.

"And?"

"I have something for you." Before she could say anything, he pulled out a small silver box from his pocket and offered it to her.

She stared down at the box, not really surprised and not really happy, either. _Jewelry,_ she thought. _It's like he doesn't know me at all. _She grabbed it, though, and then opened it. A necklace. Sweet. He stood up to put it on her himself, and she graciously thanked him for the present. She felt a twinge of guilt, though; she hadn't gotten him anything for Christmas. It just hadn't approached her mind. She had never thought he would try to be real with her anymore. And even though he was trying now, it still felt undoubtedly fake.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her.

_It's like he cares all of a sudden. _"I'm thinking about how peaceful this is," she said, not sure if she meant it. "Just you and me, right here."

"Are you still stressed out?"

She nodded. "Very."

He wrapped her up into his arms for a hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

_No, you're not. You're never sorry. You only checked on me when I was bugging out because you couldn't sleep. _"You're fine," she said into his chest.

She broke away, and looked up at him. "What are _you_ thinking about?" she wondered.

"Honestly?"

"As honest as can be."

"How much I want you right now," he admitted.

* * *

She bent over on to the glass table in the living room, and he simultaneously pulled down her leggings, revealing a gray thong between her ass cheeks. He greedily grabbed and squeezed them as she quickly pulled off her top. She then undid her bra and pressed her bare torso to the table. She wore nothing but her thong and new necklace.

He could never get enough of her ass. It was just perfect for him, and he could grope it for the rest of his life, but he had to get somewhere before it was all gone.

After taking off his clothes, he leaned against her so he could move her brown tresses out of the way and over her right shoulder, and then he put his lips to her bare neck, keeping his hands on her ass. She felt him harden behind her, and subtly pressed her backside closer to him.

Swirling his tongue into her cold, glassy skin, she groaned and rolled her neck. "God, Edward," she whispered.

"Do you like that?" he asked, his mouth still at her neck.

"Mm-hmm."

Soon, too soon, he moved his lips to her back and planted kisses as he moved downwards. Before she even knew it, her thong was down to her knees, his head was between her legs, and she was rolling her hips so he could breathe her in better.

"Oh my _god_," she moaned.

As he stroked himself with one hand and squeezed her ass with the other, he mouthed French words between her legs, and slowly moved his mouth from her core to her ass, which he had never done before.

_So unfair,_ she thought. _He's trying all these new things while he's human. What a fake. What a villain._

It wasn't like she was going to make him stop so she could tell him, though. He was being nice, she was being submissive, and they were fucking while _A Christmas Story_ was on. It was a little too perfect.

He kissed her there now like he would on the mouth, effectively branding her. She was his. Even if he was no longer hers, she was definitely his, all because she wasn't strong enough to deny him. She hated to lose, but she hated to be without him more. And after thirteen years, she needed him.

He tasted her for a few moments more before getting back up on his knees and putting both hands on her hips. She groaned when he entered her, and bucked her hips in the most gentle way she could. He took it as rough, and promptly smacked her ass before picking up speed.

The glass table rocked in rhythm to his grunts and her cries. They were too good at being indulgent - or at least he was. He wanted to etch _mine_ into her marble skin, over and over, so there would be no more confusion. Just the evidence. When he had her just the way he wanted her, she was his. All of her was.

And she was okay with that. She wasn't that strong, anyway. She was his.

With every thrust, her nails dug into the glass. She felt it cracking, but she couldn't bring herself to stop, and he didn't seem to care, anyway. He was too busy indulging.

When he was on the edge, his breath was hot and heavy on her neck and her moans could be heard from anywhere in a ten mile radius. He came, shuddering so much that she did, too. They could hardly hear the table shatter under their noise. Bella landed chest-down in a bed of glass, and Edward was behind her, still breathing hard.

"Oh my _fucking_ God," he whispered.

* * *

"Did you like it?" he asked.

She hesitated, biting her lip.

"Did you?" he pried.

"It felt good," she admitted, "but it wasn't what I was expecting."

"What did you expect?" he asked, not sounding defensive yet. "You know I'm human."

"It's hardly that," she lied. "I had sex, but I expected love." The second part wasn't a lie. She was becoming real again, because who she had just been with wasn't Edward. Whoever that was just wasn't anything like him.

He only stared at her, his green eyes pensive and unpredictable.

"I know that you know flowers and chocolates aren't a big deal to me," she said, "but that wasn't love, Edward. It was nowhere near it. I think… I think I just fucked a stranger. Jewelry and anal sex - that's not me, Edward. And that's definitely not you."

She noticed that he wasn't staring at her, but he was definitely staring _through_ her.

He didn't see her at all.

He didn't want to.

All of the sincerity and sweetness that he had used to comfort her in the early hours of the morning were gone.

_It's like you exchanged romance for sex. It's like you were full of artificial love to give out for free just so you could empty yourself out._

"And I know you love being human," she continued, "but you can't choose to be so fake, and to love me second, and then expect me to be complacent."

The defensive streak was getting into him again. And because she was right in that he certainly did use faux romance in order to get sex, he decided to stray away from the topic at hand. He was good at that, and good at being broad.

"Isn't it enough," he began, "for me to live a long and happy life with you?"

She nodded. "It used to be," she replied, "but I'm not a fool anymore. Edward. This isn't what I want, or anywhere near what I expected. It's not fucking fair."

"Listen," he told her. "Can't you see how almost perfect this is? You've got me; you'll have me for such a long time. If you would allow yourself to be happy, then you will be. This is almost flawless, and you're ruining it."

"I need you to understand something, Edward. I need you to truly and completely understand that 'almost' is never enough. It will never, ever be enough, and if you think that of me, then you don't know me at all. In fact, you would be better off thinking I never existed."

* * *

_**A/N:** If you're feeling uneasy but slightly nostalgic, you should. This story is clearly uneasy and does feature some elements of OG Bella and Edward. I uploaded this chapter from my tablet, so if there are more glaring, horrid mistakes than usual, you know why. I'll try to update later this week._

_Thank you,_

_HS_


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Flashback: December 2116**

Renesmee had been away from Port Townsend for three hours when she got the first call from home. Being strong enough to run away and brave enough to ignore it, she didn't even look at her phone. She continued to drive, but within minutes, she realized she was far too tired, and very hungry. She just wasn't about to hunt down a deer. Looking out at the Vancouver BC skyline as she drove on the freeway, going out to eat at a real restaurant didn't sound like a bad idea.

She stumbled upon an old-fashioned diner. It wasn't too crowded, but it was just busy enough for her to slip in unnoticed. She wasn't in a hurry, but she wasn't in a mood to make friends, either.

A group of young adults just around her age (in a way) followed her into the diner, making up for the lack of noise she had made upon entering. They were laughing at something that somebody had probably just said in the car. There were three women and two men - not a large group - but Renesmee couldn't take her eyes off the man with baby blue eyes and chocolate brown hair. He had a beard, but his eyes were the most noticeable thing about him. She followed him with own her eyes, but when he wouldn't look at her, she quickly gave up. Her feelings weren't hurt,

though. She didn't attract much attention here. Maybe she truly wasn't anything special. In fact, she kind of liked it.

So Renesmee minded her business at her little table at the diner. She saw that group leave, as well as four others come and go. She wasn't asked to leave, though; she merely wasn't that noticed. Either that or she, being a pretty white girl, didn't look at all sketchy.

It was almost midnight when she left the dinner, and she went out to her car to think. She didn't have to go straight to Denali; she hadn't been _told_ to go there. Of course, it was her end goal, but she was allowed to take detours. She allowed _herself_ to take detours. She couldn't allow herself to be hunted down, though, and as much as her Forks family claimed to respect her privacy, she knew they wouldn't leave her alone if she didn't say anything, especially in the way that she had initially departed.

So Renesmee sent a brief text message to Alice: _In Canada right now. Don't look for me. I'll end up in Denali eventually._

She instantly got a reply: _Tanya will be waiting for you._

Renesmee was as free as it was possible for her.

The first thing she did after consulting with Alice was get rid of her car and cell phone. They each had a tracker, naturally, and she didn't want Tanya to get impatient and go out looking for Renesmee herself. Also, the Cullens just weren't honest. They would also grow impatient and track Renesmee down, and she just couldn't have that.

After clearing her car of any personal documents and dumping it into Chehalis Lake, Renesmee ran. She knew she would avoid the criminal charges that normal people she faced just by walking, but in the darkness, she felt like she was running to live. She was running to her new life. After all this waiting, it was finally going to start. She almost wished she could tell her mother that she made it at last.

* * *

Within a couple of weeks, Renesmee had found _her_ people. No, not the other hybrids in the world - Nahuel was really hard to get a hold of, and Renesmee wasn't that patient, especially now - but people who shared similar souls with her. They were the kind of people who had nothing to lose and nothing to gain anymore, but they wanted to make their lives into a work of art. Renesmee was similar in that she wanted her existence to be beautiful, and not wasteful.

She didn't have a special place in the world, but she didn't mind because with the people she was around, she didn't have to. They were fond of living and breathing, and so was she. She didn't have to be special. She just had to _be._

Renesmee's little Vancouver motorcycle-gang-slash-traveling-garage-band consisted of people of various ages and backgrounds. She wasn't even the youngest, and she hadn't even been the most sheltered, of the people she had met. The group didn't have a name, but what Renesmee learned was that they picked up people in the towns around Vancouver, people who wanted to be found and find something all at once, and they would all ride. Just ride. They were fond of drinking all day and talking until dark. The members tended to be the homeless, but Renesmee fit right in. She was one of them.

They all really had each other's backs, even though people came and went, left and right. Renesmee was more loyal than most, and her leaders, Art and Travis, were appreciative of her. And they'd noticed her, but not in the annoying way that most people did. They were the people back at the diner, and they had definitely noticed her. They'd told her so.

On Christmas Eve, the group picked up seven more people near Surrey, the most they'd ever gotten since Renesmee had joined along with nine others. She was on good terms with Art, but better terms with Travis, so she always found herself at the latter man's side.

"When did you guys start this?" she asked him as the newer people were welcomed. They were all outside an older but massive gas station. Renesmee wrapped her fingers around her king-sized cup of coffee, hoping to get some more warmth out of it. She was freezing. She was also relatively weak; she hadn't consumed blood in forever, but she didn't really have anybody to confess to about that. They were all close, but not that close. Maybe if she didn't smoke cigarettes so much, she'd be feeling just a little bit better, but cigarettes always felt too damn good when she smoked them.

"About a year ago," Travis replied. His baby blue eyes glittered under the giant lights as he took a drag from his cigarette. He shut his eyes as he let the smoke out. "We didn't really have a reason behind it," he added. "I mean, you've got all these people out here on the streets. They've got nothing. Nobody. We try to help out a little on what we like to call an endless world tour."

"Try to get them to live a little," Renesmee said. "Everybody needs that chance."

"You're right, Vanessa," he said. "You're right."

She hadn't told anybody her real name; she would be noticed too much with it. She had to still have boundary lines.

Renesmee/Vanessa leaned against Travis' body, taking in his warmth. He wrapped an arm around her, and she realized that she liked him a lot. She liked his long brown hair and scruffy face. She liked his intentions. She didn't know how old he was, but she liked his maturity, too. She liked his perspective. Compared to Art, Travis was far more artistic. That was why she was so drawn to him. Maybe if the idea of Denali didn't work out - because on the coldest nights, like tonight, her extended family was really on her mind - she would stay with Travis forever. She already decided that she'd miss him forever, and she hadn't even left him yet.

"I really like you," she told him. "I like you a lot."

"You, too," she said. "I like you, too, baby girl."

Without even thinking, she kissed him, her breath tasting like cheap, sour coffee and old cigarettes. It was disgusting when she thought about it, but she didn't think about it. When she didn't think about it, it was better than anything she had ever known. It was actually pretty damn good.

Sex with Travis was actually pretty damn good, too. Since her first time, she knew that she didn't want to leave him, as much as she would have to. Renesmee and Travis fit together like puzzle pieces. She had been with Art before Travis, back when she had been stupid and assumed she had to sleep with somebody to be taken in, and it was ugly. She didn't like the way Art moved and how he felt with her. Something about him was too rough. Travis, though, was nearly perfect. He was real. And he was bad; he was shades and shades of bad. But Renesmee was a sucker for the bad guys with good intentions, especially the ones who were so good at it. Travis was too good at being bad for her to ignore him.

Maybe she had changed. Maybe she was bad now, too. If so, she didn't really mind. She was with the right people who had the right intentions. If she wasn't so cold, she would stay forever.

Travis kissed her back with a sense of nostalgia, like he knew their endless world tour was coming to a bittersweet end, too. How? How was he supposed to know anything? Maybe she inadvertently put her thoughts in his head; maybe she was too open. She was as wide and unwavering as the ocean out here, and she had a chameleon soul, too. Some days she was like her mother, with a fixed personality and way of doing things (which were often things she was not happy with), but most days she was a reincarnation of her father. Most days, she did what she felt was right for her. Most days, she said, "Fuck the world" and did what made her happy. Travis like that side of her a lot better, the side that was bad and uncaring.

Minutes later, Renesmee got on the back of Travis' black motorcycle. Out here, she tried not to think of things back home in Forks, but some things were too uncanny to ignore. It was sad, really, as well as crazy. Renesmee had found a _pack_ of her own, a _coven_ of her own. It was so similar to what she had known, that maybe there hadn't been a reason to leave at all.

* * *

The next day at dawn, Renesmee woke up in an alleyway next to Travis. She hadn't made any decisions until this morning, and she decided it was time to go. She was clearly her father's kid; she didn't like to think much, and she liked to move. When she kept it moving and didn't get too attached, she was okay. This morning, Christmas morning, she was okay.

Travis wasn't fully awake yet, which was probably a good thing. She hugged him tight and kissed his rough cheek. "I'm gonna go," she whispered.

He didn't reply. He would be okay, anyway. They would both be.

* * *

Renesmee was clad in the clothes she had on when she'd ran away, but her right boot had a hole at the toe, her jeans were ripped, and her jacket was no good. Her hair was matted with dirt, she smelled of cigarettes and garbage, and her teeth desperately needed to be brushed. She hadn't slept well since she'd initially left, and she hadn't hunted since before then, wanting to be completely safe before she hunted again. It had driven her wild.

Staggering to the residence of her extended family in Denali two days later, Renesmee was surprised that she had made it. As feral as she probably looked and definitely felt, though, she didn't regret being on the road. She didn't regret being with Travis. She just had to accept that that chapter of her life was over, and she was on a new one, but not a new life entirely.

She wished she could explain that as she was being scolded by her cousins.

Upon stepping onto their snow-covered driveway, they all met her outside with looks of complete surprise and relief all in one. They knew that she would come to them eventually, but they had never known when. They'd always waited. They could have scoped out the coast of British Columbia, where her tracker had last been, but they trusted her enough to let her find her own way. That was where her Denali and Forks families were different.

Being reprimanded, however, was just the same. It was Carmen who did most of it, but her voice was just too nice for Renesmee to feel offended.

While everybody else had gone out to buy Renesmee clothes and food, Carmen stayed with her. They sat at the dining room table, and Carmen was watching Renesmee dial her old house's number.

Renesmee waited for somebody to pick up the phone, hoping it wouldn't be her father and knowing it wouldn't be her mother. If Edward answered, she would have nothing to say to him because he would hardly care at all, or at least act like he didn't. Renesmee hoped Bella would answer; she would definitely care. But she had been so far removed from the rest of the family the last time Renesmee had been home. Back in October, when Bella had nearly killed Edward in a horrific accident, Renesmee had said the worst thing she could have said to Bella: she called her a monster. It was ugly, and it lived on. Bella was probably still angry. If Renesmee ever got to talk to her again, she would say that she was sorry.

And of course, there was Jacob. Renesmee couldn't mentally avoid him forever. He had to be in an even worse condition. Renesmee was truly the monster in their relationship. How could she be upset when he was in pain, when she was the only person inflicting it? She could snap his neck herself and, wearing a frown, wonder why he allowed himself to be injured like that. _Oh, woe is me. Woe is me._

If he answered the phone, what would she even say to him? _Sorry_ didn't cut it, not for her crimes against him. He would more than likely forgive her due to the magic in his brain that saw her as a perfect little flower, but she was tired of the free passes she got with him. She only broke him over and over again because she could, and she would burst into tears if she ever witnessed him upset, because she knew exactly why he was the way he was.

Maybe she wouldn't be able to talk to him. Not today. She owed him more than the world, and if she was really considerate of his feelings, then she would go back to Forks, but that wasn't going to happen today. She was definitely her parents' child; she wasn't anywhere near brave or strong.

Somebody finally answered the phone, and Renesmee was and wasn't surprised to hear Carlisle's soothing voice.

"I'm home," Renesmee said weakly. "Or here, at least. And I'm okay."

"I'm glad to hear that. How have you been?"

"Just fine. Is my mom around?"

"Yes," Carlisle said, "but she's not very well."

"She's not?"

"No. She hasn't spoken to - or even wanted to speak to - anybody since the accident."

Renesmee's heart broke for Bella. "Do you think she would want to speak with me?" she asked, her voice cracking in the middle.

"I'm not sure," Carlisle replied. "Would you like me to ask her?"

"No," Renesmee asserted. "No, thank you."

"Would you like to speak with Edward?"

"Never," she said. Then she hung up.

Sitting at the table with Carmen, she held her head in her hands, covering up her eyes. She didn't even cry; she was more angry than sad. She listened to herself breathe, to remind herself that she was very alive and very real and that this was all real. Her father truly was a piece of shit; she wasn't just imagining it this time. Edward did not have any regards for Bella or her feelings; how could have Renesmee been so _blind_? Maybe it was because she was her father's kid; she got her lack of intuition from him. But she could never be that cruel. Her mother was mute and alone because of him. Renesmee could apologize to her a thousand times and it still wouldn't do anything because what Bella needed was him.

Edward had set Bella on fire, and continued to do nothing to put out the flames. He watched her burn, either thinking she deserved to, or not thinking at all to realize that he was wrong.

"I hate him," Renesmee mumbled.

"There have been a lot of issues since your father turned back," Carmen said.

Renesmee moved her hands back and looked at her cousin. She nodded. "Too many," she replied, "and I've only seen a few of them."

"You can stay here as long as you'd like," Carmen reminded her. "Just know that."

She was too sincere, too sweet. Renesmee wished she had lived with Carmen her entire life; maybe then she would still believe in the kindness of family as opposed to the kindness of strangers.

Renesmee gave Carmen a small smile. "I will," she promised.

* * *

_**A/N**: __The next chapter will return back to the present. This flashback was much-needed for the sake of future chapters._

_Thank you,_

_HS_


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Present: December 2129**

Renesmee had been in Denali for thirteen years, and everybody accepted it. They even openly talked about the fact like they weren't ashamed of it. That was where Renesmee and Bella were different: Bella had been banished and ignored unlawfully, where there was enough blame to be passed around; Renesmee had ran off, but everybody was okay with it because nobody could take the blame, and those who did - like Bella - were silent. Renesmee's situation was just so much easier on the conscience.

The Cullens arrived in Denali late on Christmas Day, sans Bella and Jacob. Renesmee wasn't surprised; those two hadn't visited the last twelve Christmases, either. Bella had never been invited, and Jacob had never felt like going. Renesmee didn't know the Cullens would be coming to Denali today, though; she had heard from Kate that they were staying home this year. Something must have happened.

Renesmee and her father exchanged their annual hug, but he held on a little tighter this time. He was so stressed out; she could feel it. He had a right to be stressed out, though. Renesmee was still angry with him and how he had been treating her mother. How could he come to Denali once a year for the holiday festivities while leaving her in his dust? It was like she had never existed to him, when Renesmee thought about it.

"How are you?" she asked him.

He had tired eyes, and he looked exhausted. _Good, _Renesmee thought_._

I'm okay, sweetheart," he said. "Merry Christmas." He then kissed her forehead.

"You, too," she replied. "How's Mom?"

Instead of _okay_ or _the usual_, Edward sighed, and shut his eyes while doing so. All he could think about today was Bella, in the remains of a broken glass table, accusing him of being fake. Accusing him of not being enough, not knowing her at all. He tried not to think about their issues, but today they came crashing down on him, and he felt guilty. He really did. The guilt had followed him all the way to Denali.

"She's really upset," he said. _Upset_ didn't cover half of it. "Not feeling very well."

"The usual?" Renesmee asked.

Edward couldn't lie this time. He didn't have the energy. "Worse, I think."

"So why are you here, Dad?" she asked. "Not to sound rude or anything, but why are you putting up such a front by being here? Are you avoiding her because you think she's gonna hurt you or something? Last time was an accident and you know it. We all know it."

"Right now's not the time for this conversation," he said, curving the real questions like he usually did. "We can talk about this later, can't we?"

She shook her head quickly. "No," she replied, "we can't."

"You're being a problem right now," he said. (He had called Bella a problem, too.) He was always telling people what to do, and saying what he thought they were. Just when he had shrunk Bella to nothing more than a shadow, he was trying to shrink his daughter, too. He was so good at making sure the women he was closest to didn't take up space. He was also good at letting his pride bring out the worst in him. He'd been growing older for thirteen years and still couldn't see that, or at least see it and make a change for the better.

"Then so be it," Renesmee said, "but you can't leave my mother behind like that. You're hurting her way more than she could ever hurt you."

He didn't know whether his pride would let him believe that or not.

* * *

Renesmee wasn't feeling festive. Being around the same people talking about the same things was vapid and vacuous. It was far past expired. Christmas night, Renesmee wanted to be out somewhere. She wanted to be out with her old crew. She even wanted to be out with Jacob. She just wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere she belonged. She belonged with Travis and Jacob at the same time. And if she could leave in the middle of the party without a reason or anybody getting angry, she would. She knew the exact area where Travis would be, if he was still around. He was that kind of endless, indestructible nomad that she was into - he had to be out there.

Jacob was out there, too. He would always be out there - endless, indestructible, nomadic. Just when she was into. It was a shame how she realized how much she loved him in the time that she had spent away from him. Now she wished Alice would pull a classic Alice move and have him surprise her for the holiday. She wanted to Alice to be inappropriate and meddling just so Renesmee could see Jacob, because Renesmee wasn't that timid and weak anymore. Sometime in Denali, she had found the courage to face Jacob again.

She usually called him on Christmas out of a form of courtesy, but he had never answered in the past. She called him now, when she especially missed him. He didn't answer, but she stayed on the phone for longer, not waiting for anything. She thought about how it must have felt to be him, to be swinging on an emotional pendulum, running away from her and chasing her. He had to be upset about her leaving, but he had to be upset about her staying and being just as upset as he was. He would never win. Neither of them would.

_How does it feel to have me thinking about you? _she thought._ How does it feel to be even lonelier just trying to be mine, when I'm out here looking for so much more? How does it feel to have me consume you, while I'm out here consuming so much._

As long as she stayed in Denali, she would never know, and their shared afflictions would end up consuming the both of them before they even had a chance to resolve them. If she was just a little brighter and braver, she would use her compassion in the right ways. She couldn't afford to be wrong anymore.

* * *

_**A/N**: __As of now, we're in another Jacob x Renesmee arc, but I'm sure you guys miss the endless drama that is Bella x Edward (lol). I'm sorry this chapter was so short, though. It's really meant for transition purposes. I'll try to update soon again. I'm so excited to unveil the rest of this story. It's probably my second favorite project so far (Gods and Monsters is still my personal favorite)._

_Thanks as usual,_

_HS_


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

Three days after her Forks family returned home, Renesmee followed. The last days of December 2129 consisted of Renesmee getting resettled in Forks, except she moved back to the cottage, where her mother was. Forks wasn't her favorite place in the entire world anymore, but it was one of her homes. She wasn't filled with the stupid, senseless hope she had once had, but she was filled with a normal amount. In Forks, time resumed in its infinity.

Upon seeing her mother again, tears filled Renesmee's eyes. Bella had known that Renesmee was coming home, but she didn't know she was going to move into the cottage. They shared an embrace - a real one, not because they were obligated to since it was the holiday - and Bella happily helped her daughter move in. When it was just the two of them, things were nice. Tranquil. When Edward came over once or twice a day, things were still peaceful, but slightly tense - naturally.

Since Renesmee came home again, she and Bella were very fond of talking, even from the first day. Renesmee's presence brought Bella out of her silence, and when Bella finally said something, it wasn't hostile like how it would have been years ago. She was once again drained of hostility. The more Edward stayed out of her way, the more he was out of her thoughts, and her mood remained easy and constant.

On her second day of being back, Renesmee entered the dining room and found Bella preparing breakfast for her. The entire cottage smelled of pancake batter and bacon.

"Hey, Mom," Renesmee greeted her.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Bella replied as she beat some eggs in a bowl. "How'd you sleep?"

"I slept well," Renesmee replied, sitting down at the table. She combed her hair with her fingers. "One of the best night sleeps I've had in a while."

"I'm glad," Bella said.

"Do you enjoy cooking?" Renesmee wondered. "I mean, even though you can't eat what you make."

Bella shrugged. "It's for you," she said, "so I don't really mind. It's nice to cook every once in a while."

"When's the last time you cooked?"

"Christmas," Bella said, "for your father."

"Is cooking one of your new hobbies?"

"Maybe."

Renesmee was just too curious this morning. "What have you been up to while I was gone? Anything new?"

As she finished cooking the eggs, Bella gave a polite smile that was tinted with sadness. "I've been existing," she said. "That's all."

"Any difficulties with Dad?" _Please, please, please don't lie._

Up until last Christmas, there hadn't been any difficulties in particular. Bella shook her head. "No."

"Do you guys even talk?"

Bella finished preparing Renesmee's breakfast and set down the plate in front of her. Bella sat down across from her daughter, staring at her brown eyes, remembering what her own human eyes had looked like.

"Hardly," Bella replied. "I think your father and I have just run out of things to talk about."

Renesmee didn't touch her food. Instead, she frowned. "Have you ever considered getting out of here?" she asked. "And I don't mean that in a rude way, but you have so much time, Mom. You could pick yourself up, go someplace else, and just be you. You know, be you and not care what anybody else thinks. And maybe even with somebody else, too. You know the old saying, that there are plenty of fish in the sea."

Bella took a moment. Her _daughter_ was giving her life and love advice. It was a bit unsettling, but mostly useless. "Renesmee," she began, "I can't just leave Forks, you, and your father."

"Why not?" Renesmee demanded. "I'll be okay, and as long as Dad doesn't care, he'll be okay, too."

"Just listen. I _know_ you'll be okay. You were okay at college every time you went, and you were okay in Denali for over a decade. I have no worries about you, but Edward… he's just…" Bella struggled to find the right words.

"You still care for him," Renesmee said.

Bella sighed and nodded her head. "Yes. I really do."

"Can I just ask you what you still see in him? Because, Mom, all I've seen is this asshole who wants nothing to do with you."

"I still care because I always remind myself of who he was when we met," Bella said. "You see, when I first met Edward, he was everything to me. He was beautiful, so magnetic, and brilliant. Brilliant above all else. When I first met him, I knew right away that he was the only one for me. It was just so clear. He was the only person I'd ever wanted, and I've never wanted anybody as much as I wanted him."

Bella paused, deciding on what to say next, and in which order. She only had so many options. "And I loved him," she added. "I loved him, I loved him, I _loved_ him. And I still love him." She paused, to make sure she was actually telling the truth. "I love him. Edward's still everything to me - I just can't let that go. He's still beautiful, and he's still so magnetic, and his brilliance is somewhere in there still. People don't change much. Maybe he's always been this selfish. But he still has the best traits that he used to have. I know that. And you're right, Renesmee - I know Edward better than anybody, which is the worst part. I know him so well, but he doesn't seem to know me at all."

"That's why I'm asking you to leave, Mom," Renesmee said. "He doesn't know you. He doesn't care."

Bella stared long and hard into Renesmee's eyes. "Where am I going to go?" she asked. "Where am I going to be wanted, and be myself and not care what anybody else thinks?"

Renesmee didn't have an answer.

"I have nowhere to go," Bella explained. "I'm far too loyal to Carlisle and this family to simply leave without a trace. I would look selfish."

"But isn't it embarrassing to stay here, clearly unwanted and ignored?" Renesmee asked.

"It is," Bella admitted, "but it would be even more embarrassing to leave. They would see me as selfish, and think that I'm responsible for Edward and I falling apart. They love me, but they _adore_ him. You can't see it, but it's true. They can't see it, either, or why we're even going down the drain."

"Obviously you disagree with his choice," Renesmee said, "but why are things going down the drain so much faster?"

Bella was afraid to speak again. She felt that she had already said too much by letting Renesmee into her marital issues, but she had broken all the rules, anyway. Every sense of rules Bella had known had been completely obliterated, much like everything else. So now, it didn't really matter. Nothing really mattered.

"It took me a while to really understand what's going on," Bella replied, "but I think Edward's been manipulating me. Throwing me around based on how he's doing or how stressed he is. He constantly invalidates my own feelings, he never listens to a thing I say when we talk, and when he does listen, he becomes angry. He keeps breaking me down every time we interact. When that doesn't happen, I'm fucking everything up, because, yes, I am guilty of saying some crazy, messed up shit, too.

"Since I've been mostly alone, I've learned that when I'm with him, I'm really angry and rude and passive-aggressive and hostile and I like to guilt trip and all of that. Our conversations always end up with one of us saying something incredibly harmful. I just can't believe it took me so long in his absence to put it all together. I feel so stupid. I mean, Edward is getting older and weaker every single day, yet he has me in such a vulnerable emotional position whenever we're together, while he's physically vulnerable. His pride is too big, though - he doesn't care. He doesn't care at all about my emotions, and his pride blocks his own emotions. He also knows I'll never touch him again, so he can keep telling me all this crazy, hurtful shit. He does all of this because he can, and I play along because I never get tired of being angry. I like to fight, but he likes to win, and the only solution we've had is running around a tiny space avoiding each other because neither of us are strong enough to permanently leave. It is honestly all so ugly, and I don't want you to be in a relationship as horrible as the one I'm in."

Renesmee didn't say anything; she only wanted to cry and scream. She never thought her parents would be one of those tales of poor parenting. The tale stricken with emotional abuse. She was far past thinking her parents and their love was eternal, but she never knew it had gotten this deep. And to know that her mother was finally coming clean about it now… it gave her chills that went to the bone.

"What are you going to do, Mom?" Renesmee asked.

"I'm going to wait."

* * *

Renesmee spoke with Jacob for the first time since she came home later that afternoon. She didn't mind being away from her mother, knowing she was somewhat better after confessing her issues since being mute and static for so long. Renesmee knew that being silent wasn't good just by looking at Bella, so she wasn't afraid to talk to Jacob.

Jacob was at his old garage in La Push. He was repairing something on a motorcycle. He was so good at keeping his hands busy.

Back when Jacob and Renesmee had watched movies nearly every night, they had watched a lot of zombie movies. They had decided that no two zombie movies were alike, but a common trope most of them shared was that zombies liked to hang around the places they spent their most time at when they were human. Now, Jacob kept gravitating towards his old garage like a zombie, not knowing anything else.

"Hey, stranger," she greeting him after entering.

He turned around and effectively stopped tinkering with whatever was in his hands. He set the object and tool down. "Home already?"

"It's only been thirteen years."

"I knew you were coming home," he said. "I just didn't know how soon."

"Am I too early for the flowers?" she asked jokingly, instantly regretting it. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

She pulled up a plastic chair and sat down. Jacob pulled up a seat of his own and sat across from her, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"Have you still been phasing?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "Yeah. I have."

"Drinking?"

He didn't bat a lash. "No."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Always telling the truth, remember?"

She nodded. "Right. Of course I remember."

"What have you been up to?" he asked. His voice was kind, like he wasn't angry that she had been gone for thirteen years.

_Of course he's not angry_, Renesmee thought. _He imprinted on me._

"I've just been out and about," she said casually. "I missed you a lot."

"I missed you, too," he replied. His tone was genuine, but like it was leading up to something.

"What's on your mind?" she asked.

"An idea."

"About…?"

"About having some space," he said.

"_Space_? We've had plenty of that, but I'm back now. I was out on the road for a little while, and in Denali I became stronger and more confident in regards to some things, like how I feel about you, Jake. I love you, Jake."

It had nearly no effect on him. "I love you, too," he said curtly.

"So why do you need space?" she asked.

"I've outlived all my family and friends," he said. "We haven't talked in years. I haven't gone anywhere or done anything. We need space so we can both live, because this living together concept… it's not working. All you did was run from it."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have left in the way that I did. I was just mad at my parents and -"

"And decided to pursue a new life in the streets with some new people. You found Vanessa. You found Travis."

"Don't tell me you saw me out there in Vancouver," she said.

He nodded. "I did."

"Are you mad?"

"No," he admitted. "I'm not. I just… I just wish I was enough. That's all. So I'm giving us space to grow."

"Jacob, I've _grown _already. I didn't know how I felt about you back then, but I know now. I'm positive about that now. We've just already had so much space to grow. We've both had thirteen years."

"_You_ had thirteen years."

Renesmee furrowed her brow. "Jacob, _where_ have you been?"

"I've been waiting."

She accidentally bit her own tongue, but the pain meant nothing now. "So you're just gonna leave," she said. "Just like that, even though you imprinted on me."

"I don't know if imprints are supposed to last forever," he replied, "but we're just gonna separate, okay? You're gonna grow even more and I'm gonna start growing. It's for the both of us."

She didn't say anything when he leaned in to kiss her cheek before leaving the garage to go somewhere only he knew.

She should have known it was coming, because now it made all the sense in the world, but she didn't particularly like it.

_It's for the both of us._

* * *

_**A/N**: __As a reminder, this is a pretty dark story (just in general, not necessarily in this current Jacob/Renesmee arc). If you can't handle the nature of this story, then I wouldn't recommend committing to reading it. And as for the pace, please bear with me. It's gonna take some time, but if you're impatient, there are eight chapters left. _

_Thanks as usual,_

_HS_


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

Renesmee came home in one piece. She was cracking, but being in one piece was what mattered the most. If Jacob had broken up with her (was that the normal term?) a while back, she would have lost her way completely. She would have spun out so far that there wouldn't be a hint of a way back. She wasn't lost now, but she could feel herself heading somewhere she didn't prefer to be. She could feel herself shrinking while he was out somewhere already growing.

She entered the cottage quietly. Her mother was sitting on the couch, her nose in a book. It wasn't a real book this time. Bella had finally accepted the devices that could mentally present a novel to the reader without actually having to look or touch anything. So Bella's head was actually in a book, rather than her nose.

Bella blinked and stopped reading. "How'd it go?" she asked.

"He broke up with me," Renesmee said without hesitation as she plopped down on the couch. It was a mere fact, and they had only parted fifteen minutes ago.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, baby," Bella said. Renesmee leaned into Bella and rested her head on her mother's chest. Bella ruffled Renesmee's hair.

"How are you feeling?" Bella asked softly.

"It hurts so much," Renesmee murmured, tears forming in her eyes. "How could he do that? Did the imprint stop working? Why?"

"I don't think imprints ever stop working. They never stop working." Bella couldn't trust her own words.

"It just hurts so much. It hurts. So. Much. I don't know how long it'll be before we'll be together again. I don't know what I'll do without him. All I know is that everything hurts, Mom."

"It may hurt right now," Bella said, "but it's not always going to hurt."

"How do you know that?"

"Nothing lasts forever."

_God_, Renesmee thought.

The worst part was that Bella was right.

* * *

For the next few weeks, Renesmee killed a lot of time with Alice. Going shopping and sightseeing in a different city every week was time-consuming and distracting; sitting around the house with Bella was only more harmful.

_Maybe that's why nobody wants to be around me_, Bella thought, _besides the obvious. Maybe I'm a bore._

In the mean time, Bella worked on not being a bore. She spent more time in the main house.

As it turned out, the other Cullens weren't as afraid for Edward's life with her around as they were afraid of her bitter disposition. Jasper had told Bella that herself. Nobody knew what she was thinking, or what she would do. She was like a ticking time-bomb to them. Nobody was fond of talking to her about it, either, apparently. Except Jasper. He understood the concept of being misunderstood. The last time he'd had an incident, he hadn't been ostracized, but he'd forced the entire family to move away. And he forgave Bella now, while Bella had forgiven him then. She just wished somebody had the courage to say that she wasn't at all dangerous, but it wouldn't happen. That was what bothered her the most: everybody just liked to let their problems sit out in the open, unacknowledged and tortuous. Waiting bothered her more than anything.

Bella talked a lot with Jasper during the day, and started talking with Edward at night. January didn't make for comfortable talks on the porch swing, so Bella and Edward often sat calmly in the cottage living room. It felt stuffy; there were too many memories of blissful times and horrendous times that she didn't like to think about. The last catastrophes haunted her every time she was in the cottage, especially with him. Hopefully they would move again next year.

She brought up the idea of moving as he sat in the armchair near the couch. It was the small talk that sustained them; the deep conversations were what got them into trouble.

"Where do you want to move next time?" Bella asked as sat on the couch. She had been reading a book (as usual), but it was boring now. She set it down and laid down on the floor, her hair fanned out across the soft white carpet. She stared up at the ceiling.

"Mmm," Edward said, thinking. "Somewhere warm."

"Is there any place in the world that's warm and _not_ sunny?"

"I suppose you're right," Edward said. He then left his armchair and laid down next to her on the floor. Their heads were only inches apart, and she could feel that he wasn't nervous. Of course he wasn't. She was the nervous one. He made her more nervous than ever - it made her feel shameful.

"I sound selfish," he said. "If only such a place existed. Florida does sound really nice right now, though."

"Sounds perfect. Georgia sounds even better, though."

"Mmm. Georgia sounds like heaven."

"Any place besides western Washington in January sounds like heaven," Bella said.

"Washington hardly has any good qualities," Edward said curtly. "Weather-wise, at least."

"Not even the eastern parts?" she asked. "I thought you liked Spokane."

"I do, but it's not Georgia."

"I suppose," she said easily, "but I wouldn't knock Washington too much. It's where my best memories are, and maybe even yours, too."

"But get this," he said, being vacuous. "Winter is useless. It starts too early and ends too late. Why does anyone stay here?"

_You're such an idiot_, she thought. _You're complaining about winter when you have so little winters left to live through. You shouldn't have changed in the first place if all you're going to do is complain._

"Sometimes you have to create your own summers," Bella said. She had attempted to sound poetic, but it actually came out pretty stupid. "Create them with the memories you have and the people you know. You have to live them out."

"I know how to live," Edward said.

"I know you do."

* * *

After months of traveling around the world in what Renesmee sometimes thought of as her endless world tour (in the style of her old man Travis, of course), she grew sick of it. Even though she knew she would come to nothing good at home, she knew she couldn't be out on the road forever. She'd see the world, done it all, and still felt empty. It was clear why she felt so empty: Jacob was out in the human world living, breathing, and growing. All she had done was go to fancy restaurants and buy new clothes, effectively shrinking back into the vapid, vacuous person she had tried so hard to stay away from. She hadn't been able to get him off her mind. He had her looking crazy all over again as he thoroughly haunted her, and she had done nothing to change it. She never had the power to.

Renesmee returned home with Alice on the first day of spring. Forks didn't look like it was ready for spring as there were snow patches in a few spots, but the sun shone brightly. Renesmee could start to taste summer.

She had been in the cottage all day since coming home, growing guiltier and guiltier by the second. She was home, but Jacob wasn't. She wasn't as bothered with the idea of him finding someone new as she was bothered with him simply not being here. She could live with that, just as long as he returned. She had found someone new a while ago, but she had returned because she knew what was better for her. She hoped he would see that and be reflective.

Renesmee fell asleep on the couch, and nobody had bothered to wake her up and go to her own bed. She woke up at four in the morning to return to her bedroom, but as she walked down the hallway, she faintly heard footsteps approach the cottage. Her parents now often spent their days and nights in the main house, though, so she didn't have a clue who could be coming to the house.

She went to the front door and opened it without looking through the peephole. She should have looked first, so she could stop herself from falling apart.

Jacob stood there on the porch. Renesmee's jaw dropped. They didn't say a word, though; all they did was go back to his car.

* * *

All that they knew was that they were heading south. Maybe they would stop in Portland, maybe in Los Angeles. Jacob drove, but he could barely keep his eyes on the road. He insisted on answering every one of Renesmee's questions while looking in her eyes, just the way she preferred it. His eyes were tired, but he was still beautiful to her. Possibly even more beautiful. His beauty didn't distract her too much, though. They both still knew that this trip could end in paradise or burning flames.

She tried to keep her questions casual so they wouldn't catch fire too fast. "Did you stay in one place?" she asked.

He nodded. "I tried Seattle," he replied, "but I didn't like it too much. I stayed in Portland most of the time."

"Was it far enough?" _Did you stop feeling my pull? _she thought.

"Too far." _Of course you didn't_, she thought.

"What about you?" he asked. "Did you go anywhere new?"

She shrugged. "I've been everywhere," she replied. "I went to a different city about every week for a couple months. Paris was my favorite, but I've been there a lot, anyway."

"Paris is the perfect city for you," he said.

"Why do you say that?"

"You're both beautiful."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay, who are you seeing now and why aren't you with her?" she asked.

"I'm not seeing anybody," he said.

"Because I swear to God," she went on, "if you're cheating on her right now I -"

"Ness, _I'm not seeing anybody_," he asserted.

She tried to keep her feelings together before she ruined them all by herself, but it wasn't working very well. "Alright," she said.

"Are _you_ seeing anybody?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "I haven't seen anybody since we split up."

"Hm."

"How many?" she asked.

"Three."

"Three?"

"Three."

* * *

By the time they made it to California, they both knew they weren't going to burst into flames. It took Renesmee some time to get used to the idea of Jacob being with other people at some point, but she got used to it. (He still wasn't used to her and Travis ever being an item, but somebody had to budge.)

Driving down the California coast and going about ninety-nine miles an hour, she leaned on his shoulder and stared out the windshield.

"So do you have a type?" she wondered. "Now that you've been with other people?"

"What do you mean by 'type'?"

"You know," she said. "Good girls, bad girls, nice girls, mean girls… a type."

"Bad girls, then," he admitted. "I like bad girls."

"Is that true?"

"Mm-hm."

"So what made you come back to me?"

"You're the best that I've ever known."

"Even if I'm not that bad?"

"Even then."

"What constitutes as bad, then?" she asked.

"You know," he said. "Rides on motorcycles with older men, drinks a little bit, smokes cigarettes, occasionally wears leather. The usual."

"I've done all of that," she said. "What does that make me?"

"An exception."

"And why's that?"

"You know where your head is."

If only he knew how crazy she was without him around. He would never want to come back if he found that out - except he would. He would always come back.

"It kills me how natural all of this is," she said. "How we are together. Even though it probably seemed unnatural at first, we always fall back into each other. We always come back around. Isn't that crazy?"

"It's wild," he replied, "but I don't think I'd wanna change anything."

"Not a thing?"

"Not a thing."

* * *

_**A/N**: __Blah, blah, blah, fluffy Jakenemee arc, blah. It's all going somewhere, I promise. And for the anon: thank you. You're right. Everything keeps unravelling and it's not very good, which is bad on me as a writer. I aim to improve for my next story - a lot._

_Thanks as always,_

_HS_


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

Renesmee and Jacob carefully set down their new couch in the living room of their new house. She stood up straight, put her hands on her hips, and smiled at Jacob. "We're moved in," she said.

They had gotten a new house in Ocean Shores. It was far past time to out. They didn't know how Alice and Jasper did it, but Renesmee and Jacob had been static for too long, itching to get out of Forks. Ocean Shores was only a two hour drive south from Forks, though, so nobody could get too heartbroken.

As soon as they plopped down on the couch, Jacob wrapped his arm around Renesmee. They looked out the window, at the beach. Ocean Shores was different from La Push, but not too different. There was more sand and less rocks, for one thing, but both were quiet. Jacob didn't mind the quiet. Except in La Push, his head was always screaming about something, even after all the other voices went away. In Ocean Shores, his head was quiet. The only voice he heard was his own, and that voice was calm. _Thank God._

"I could just stay here forever," Renesmee murmured. "I think I will." Now that she was positive that a _forever_ did exist for her, it was her favorite word again.

Jacob just breathed in, breathed out. In, out.

The sun was starting to set, and it took Renesmee's breath away. Right on the coast, she could see it all, feel it all.

"Pretty sunset," Jacob said.

"Mm-hmm."

"Let's go for a walk."

Ocean Shores wasn't known for being very warm, so people only really visited in the middle of the summer to get the most of the weather. Jacob and Renesmee were alone now. In April, it was cold and windy, but Renesmee had Jacob to keep her warm.

Her pale skin, clad in tiny white shorts and a gray tank top, contrasted with Jacob's dark skin. She noticed this as she looked down at their hands while they walked. She pressed herself to him tight, breathing into his clean blue t-shirt, knowing he'd never let go.

Maybe it was a bad idea to take a walk now, when it was so windy. She couldn't see much of the sunset because the wind made her eyes water, but she knew she wasn't missing much. They would have so many more sunsets.

"Hey, Ness," Jacob said softly, despite the wind being loud.

"Yeah?"

"I need to get something off my chest."

She was still calm. She tried really hard to stay calm. "Go ahead."

"I've stopped phasing for good this time."

She didn't say anything.

"It's okay if you're mad," he told her. "I would understand."

"I'm not mad, I promise."

"Are you gonna be okay?" He was always worrying about her. She wished he would worry about himself just once.

"Are _you_?" she asked.

"The whole aging thing hasn't really picked up yet," he replied, "but I'll be okay."

"When did you stop?"

"When he split up last January."

_So it's only been three months. Only three months. Three months is a long time. Only it's not._

He didn't say he was sorry, all because he wasn't sorry. He was finally moving on in his own life, letting himself live again. If Renesmee was still very dense, she would see this decision as selfish, but she wasn't like her mother - she wasn't dense anymore. The difference between the relationships between Renesmee and Jacob and Bella and Edward were that the former couple consisted of better people who weren't abusive towards each other. Renesmee was grossly proud of that.

So she couldn't be angry with Jacob, because it was the right decision for him. She just needed to get all that she could out of him before it was too late. He wouldn't be young forever.

"Let's get married," she initiated.

"When?"

"In July. Sooner, if possible. I feel like I could lose you any minute now."

And July, it was.

It was the most elaborate wedding Forks had seen in over a century, even though there weren't many guests. It also didn't have a wedding party, but that was fine with Renesmee and Jacob.

She wore a skirt and top set instead of a dress, which Alice initially reprimanded her for. Up until hours before Renesmee got married, Alice hated her choice of dress. "A skirt and _lace crop top_?" Alice had asked. "That is _so_ old-fashioned, Renesmee."

The entire process of the wedding had gone by very fast. Bella and Edward knew it was going to happen since Jacob had promised it to her at birth; they just didn't know it would take this long. Edward had been ready to walk Renesmee down the aisle since she'd stopped aging.

On the morning of the wedding, right as Alice had finished criticizing Renesmee's attire again, Bella styled Renesmee's hair. She stared at her daughter's face in the mirror, trying to find the pieces of herself and Edward in it. Some aspects of Renesmee were all her own. It was interesting.

Renesmee wanted a flower-child-hippie-love-type vibe to her wedding, which was what she got. She hadn't seen the setup in the Cullens' backyard, but as Bella carefully wove a crown of flowers into Renesmee's updo, Renesmee got even more excited. She wasn't like most brides, absolutely terrified to get married. All she had to be afraid of was time, not marriage itself.

Time sped by as the wedding went through the typical motions. Edward walked Renesmee down the aisle with dry eyes, Jacob wore an extremely well-tailored tuxedo, Renesmee and Jacob promised all the typical things to each other, they kissed, and the ceremony was over. Jacob and Renesmee Black were legally official.

The reception didn't consist of many guests, and none of them were that knew. With the Cullens and Tanya's coven as company, the wedding reception looked like a typical family gathering. (Renesmee had wanted to invite Zafrina and Senna of the Amazon coven, but getting a hold of them would have been a hassle.) At the reception, she realized that she missed a lot of people that she hadn't considered inviting. She wouldn't mind seeing Benjamin and Tia again, when she thought about it.

Jacob got a dance with every woman there, but his dance with Bella lasted the longest. They had four dances, actually.

"So you're a married man now," Bella said as they swayed to the music. "How's it feel?"

"Feels pretty good," he said. "When's the stress start kicking in?"

They laughed. Bella really smiled for the first time in a while. It wasn't even fake - it was all real. If she knew one thing that she wouldn't mind having around forever, it was him. (She didn't know he was aging again.)

"Well, hopefully _never_," she replied, "but if so, give it a couple of decades. I'd say sixty-seven years."

"I'll mark it on my calendar," he said.

They laughed again, and they hugged as they swayed.

"I miss you, Bells," he said into her shoulder.

"Present tense?" she asked into his bicep.

"Yeah."

"I miss you, too, Jake. Present tense."

"And so the Miraculous Friendship of Jake and Bells continues," he said.

She chuckled. "I guess you could say that."

It was like they jumped back over a century in time. It was like how things used to be. She needed this more than anything when she was constantly aching.

"How have you been, honey?" he asked.

"Okay," she said.

Jacob stared across the dancefloor as Edward and Renesmee were sharing a dance under the twinkling lights. They were laughing. She looked so happy and beautiful. She was glowing.

"Is he still being difficult?" Jacob asked Bella. He didn't have to specify who _he_ was.

"Of course," she replied. "But what's new?"

"I'm just saying you could do better."

She wasn't in the mood to explain everything to Jacob right now. She just hugged herself tighter to him. "Oh, Jake."

She closed her eyes and breathed him in, and he didn't smell that bad to her anymore. She wondered why, but she didn't care enough to ask. Right now, all she had to do was relax as she and Jacob went somewhere else entirely. He was the most solid thing she had right now. More recently, she'd been daydreaming about how things would have gone if she had made a difference decision, but she tried to keep those thoughts to a minimum. They would make her too upset if she dwelled on them for too long.

"I miss you, Jake," she said.

"I miss you, too, Bells."

* * *

Jacob and Renesmee flew out to Paris later that night for their honeymoon. They had planned on going to Paris, her favorite place in the world, but it wasn't boring. With him around, she was seeing it as a brand-new place.

Because they took one of Jasper's jets, they landed in Paris when the sky was still dark, around two in the morning. Renesmee snuggled up to Jacob in the backseat of the cab as they were driven to their hotel. He was warm, but not too warm.

Upon entering the hotel room, Jacob set their suitcases down and opened the curtains to their gigantic window. Their hotel was far from the Eiffel Tower, but the view from their room was perfect. They could see everything, even the Arc de Triomphe. Both the Eiffel Tower and the Arc were lit up. They didn't even need to turn the lights on in their hotel room.

He held her, and she knew she was truly home. The most beautiful place and the most beautiful man in the world could coexist, and they did, right before her.

She turned to him and put her arms around his neck. She kissed him slow and hard and deep as his fingers stayed at the small of her back, making shapes.

They slowly walked back to the bed, and she sat down, looking up at him. He stood before and put his hands in her hair, and she put his hands on his hips narrow, bringing him closer. She quickly took off his shirt and brought her lips to his bare stomach. It was hard and tight as she kissed it and moved her lips lower. She started to unbutton his jeans, but he quickly stopped her so he could undress her. Bringing his hands to the back of her dress, he pulled the zipper all the way down and pulled the dress off of her body. She was bare underneath, and too damn beautiful.

He sat down on the bed and kissed her. He murmured sweet nothings against her hot skin as she removed the rest of his clothes. They both slid their shoes off, and then he hitched her leg up to him. She gasped and pressed herself even closer, wildly kissing his throat. She murmured words against his skin, but they weren't very sweet or innocent.

"You're a good girl and you know it," he whispered. "You don't have to act so different with me."

"Trust me," she said. "I'm not that good."

* * *

Renesmee woke up later that day with the taste of Jacob on her tongue and the feel of him on her body. She felt brand-new. It was a brand-new day, and one less day she had with him than before.

She rubbed her eyes and blinked. Jacob laid next to her asleep, looking like an angel as the Paris sun illuminated the room, bringing him out of the shadows. They were married now. Truly married. They'd both been signed up for it when she had been born, practically, but now it was official - at least by legal standards. He was hers in all the ways she could have him, completely trapped by her incisors. She couldn't feel guilty anymore, though; she could only feel grateful.

And she was.

* * *

_**A/N**: __There are six chapters left, and I'm going to complete all of them. Either bear with me or not, but I know what I'm doing. I promise._

_Thanks,_

_HS_


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen**

After a blissful Parisian honeymoon that lasted two weeks, Jacob and Renesmee retreated back to their perfect little beach house in Ocean Shores to get the most out of the rest of the summer. They didn't like to spend much time away from the beach. In the latter half of summer, things were just too perfect.

A week after returning home, Renesmee sauntered along the beach, wearing a bikini top with a tank top over it, denim shorts, and wayfarer sunglasses. Jacob watched her from a few yards away, recording her with a video camera.

"How does it feel?" he asked her.

She stretched her arms out and gestured to the ocean and bright August sun behind her. Then she started dancing with a huge grin on her face. She swayed her hips as she spun around like a ball of beautiful, pure energy. "Feels wonderful," she called to him. As she danced, she looked so much like Bella, except with a much better sense of rhythm.

"You look like heaven," he told her matter-of-factly.

She placed her sunglasses on top of her head and stared at him with a cute grin on her face. "What are you recording me for?" she asked. "You've got me right here."

"If I blink, I'll miss something," he said. "I don't wanna miss a thing."

She held her hand out to him. "Dance with me?"

There was no way he could deny her. Even though he felt weaker these days for whatever reason, her pull on him was still there. Instinctively, he set the camera down and went to Renesmee. As they twirled in the soft sand, they could stay there forever. She whispered soft, innocent nothings in his ear as she held him tight. Neither of them wanted to be anywhere else.

They remembered their responsibilities eventually. Tonight, they would be having all their family over for dinner - even Rosalie and Emmett. Renesmee and Jacob wanted to put on a good impression, and show that they were living the married couple life just the right way.

"I've gotta go to the store," Renesmee murmured to Jacob, still embracing him, "and you've gotta clean the house."

"Sure, sure." It had been some time since he said that.

Renesmee kissed him on the corner of his mouth. "God, I just could stay here forever." The other corner. "And ever." Briefly on the lips. "And _ever._"

"I love you," he told her.

"I love you, too," she told him. "Forever."

* * *

While Renesmee was at the nearest grocery store about an hour away, in Montesano, Jacob deep-cleaned their already-clean home. They had barely broken it in yet; there was hardly anything to do. So Jacob found himself dusting everything in sight, scrubbing all the floors, and even put his and Renesmee's bedroom in order, even though nobody would go to it. Their house wasn't big enough for hosting a gathering of ten people; it was just big enough for the both of them. But alas, the party would be happening, anyway. All Jacob could do was kill time until it was over.

As Jacob washed the dishes, he thought of Renesmee (typically). He loved her - he loved her a lot - but it didn't feel like an imprint anymore. He didn't lose his mind without her around, which was why he was cleaning the house instead of at her side, at the grocery store. He hadn't even lost his mind when they'd had space, back in January. He hadn't loved the three other girls as much as he ever loved her, but he hadn't gone crazy; he just couldn't handle not being around her forever, because he truly had planned on leaving her forever. The space he had told her about had meant to be permanent. He'd lied. He'd lied again after being honest for so long, but he'd broken the promise he had made to himself in order to keep the one he had made to her since birth. That meant something to him.

He felt like he was still tied to her, but he didn't. He still saw her as light - pure, gorgeous, amazing light - but he didn't mind being away from her. That counted for something, too.

And he loved her above anything else, but he still had dark, nagging, harmful thoughts that had bothered him from the second he and his wife (_I can't believe I'm actually married_) came home from Paris. Every time he looked into her beautiful brown eyes these days, he knew that his time was running out, and that he had to go while she was still so crazy, stupid happy. If she was unhappy for a second, it would be his last memory of her, and it wouldn't be perfect. He needed to go while they were both happy and in love.

He didn't have any specific suicide plans, mostly because with Renesmee around, he didn't have the time to make them official. But when she wasn't around, the thoughts grew louder and the urges became more and more reasonable.

_You've been around forever,_ he told himself. _You've outlived everybody you've ever known. It's time for you to go. You're married to the girl of your dreams. You've seen it all and done it all. You have nothing left to do here._

He didn't want to hurt Renesmee - he just couldn't hurt her again - but he knew he would have to.

Jacob wasn't paying much attention as he washed the dishes, but when his left hand slipped and the butcher knife he was washing cut into it, it hurt like hell. He bit his lip and balled his left hand into a fist. It would be healed in no time. So he waited. For ten minutes. The wound didn't heal like it used to, at rapid speed. He tried to remember the last time he'd healed normally; he hadn't phased yet then, and it was too long ago to even try to remember. Now it was like he was going in reverse. He was back at that pre-phasing stage - he was more vulnerable.

He could see everything coming to an end very soon. The only question left regarding the end vexed him: How soon?

* * *

Hours later, Jacob had wrapped up his hand and the family had arrived for the spontaneous dinner party. Rosalie and Emmett showed up first, looking like they were in their early thirties and claiming that Walter was at summer camp, while the rest of the Cullens followed. Carlisle and Esme looked so happy and proud, seeing as all of their children and company were happy. Jacob knew that Alice and Jasper still weren't very supportive of Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward's decision, but they lived with it. And even Edward and Bella were okay today. Jacob knew they were fond of being secretive, but Bella's disposition wasn't bitter today. They were okay.

Jacob found it all very rehearsed - he and Renesmee were alike in that way. He graciously accepted the expensive bottle of wine from Rosalie as a housewarming gift, graciously greeted all his guests, and graciously entertained with stories of the new house and the honeymoon. Being around the Cullens for this long, Jacob was a professional at being fake, but it was anything for Renesmee. He had known that from the start.

Once night had fallen and everybody was comfortable in the house, Jacob went outside to get some air. He sat in a chair on the deck outside, facing the beach. Renesmee was busy entertaining, and he wasn't interested in helping out. Alone, he took out the video camera and replayed the footage of Renesmee today. He played it over and over. He saw her dance under the sun maybe twelve times before he realized he wasn't alone on the deck.

He looked up. It was Bella. She leaned against the front door, her arms crossed. She looked down at the camera in his hands. "What do you have there?" she asked.

Jacob gestured to the screen, silent.

"If you two are making some sort of weird home movie," she replied, her face hard, "please don't start putting it together when I'm here. She's still my kid, you know."

"Oh, it's nothing like that," he said. "I swear."

She smiled. "I was _kidding_," she said, taking a seat next to him. "The king of comedy can't take a joke for once. Amazing." She continued to look down at the camera. "What's going on, Jake?"

He kept his eyes down. "Nothing, really."

"What are you looking at recordings of her for, then?" she wondered.

"What's wrong with keeping memories?"

"Nothing," Bella replied, "but she's not going anywhere. She's right there in the house."

Jacob sighed. "I don't know, Bella. I just...I'm just trying to have the most of her that I can. That's all."

In the dark, she could hardly see him. "Like I said, she's not going anywhere," she reiterated.

"I feel like I'm losing her."

Bella furrowed her brow. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Jacob said. "She's happy and healthy and...perfect."

"So what's the issue?"

"Bella, I'm aging."

She was silent, but she wasn't as angry as she was confused. She was plenty of both, though.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him.

"I've done everything," he told her. "I've seen the world, done it all, outlived all my family and friends. My time is up."

"Jake, it doesn't have to be this way. She needs you."

He shook his head. "She really doesn't. She's had me for so long."

"Well, you're not a _toy_ or anything. She hasn't been using you or anything. You're everything to her."

"Bella," he said. "I can't live like this anymore. I'm happy. I know I am. But I've gotta go."

"You make it sound like you don't have sixty more years to live," she said quietly. "You _do_ have that much time, don't you?"

"I've thought of committing suicide since I got home from Paris," he admitted. "I know I'll follow through, but I don't know when."

"You don't love her at all," she said, "but she's crazy about you. It's almost like you never imprinted on her in the first place."

"I don't know how or why imprinting is the way it is," he told her, "but it's not meant to last forever. Nothing else makes sense except for that part. It's so clear to me now. But I also know that I do love her, Bella. Renesmee is… Renesmee is the most wonderful person in the entire world. But she's equipped for this world - she's always been ready to survive in a world that changes around her all the time because she _knows_ how to deal with change. She knows that better than anyone else. Renesmee is brilliant. She has this kind of soul that can blend in anywhere, _be_ anywhere, and she always knows what's best for her. She's got her head on right, but, Bella, _I_ don't. I lost it head a long time ago, and I'm never gonna find it again. I'm hopeless but content enough to leave this world, and I'm going to. How much she loves me isn't going to change anything at this point."

Bella thought on it, and then nodded. "I understand," she said.

"I wasn't asking for permission," he told her.

"I know, but I understand. Do what's right, and only at the right time."

"I was planning on it."

"Okay, but promise me something, Jake."

"'Course."

"Promise me - no, promise _her_ \- that you'll give her anything and everything she could ever want, and before you go, follow through. Okay?"

"Okay," he replied. "I promise."

"Alright. Now let's go back to the party."

Jacob played nice for the rest of the evening, and the dinner party was a success. Rosalie and Emmett had returned to Bellevue early (as predicted), and when everybody else was leaving, Jacob and Renesmee graciously said goodbye, promising they'd visit sometime before Christmas.

Bella and Edward were the last to leave. Bella hugged Renesmee tighter than usual, and Renesmee had no idea why. She pointed that out after her parents left. She also pointed out her father kissing her mother on the cheek, saying that they hadn't had any physical contact in years, as far as she knew. Jacob just shrugged, but he knew exactly what they were doing. Bella and Edward would need to be as solid as possible for when Renesmee would fall.

* * *

_**A/N**: __You know I can't keep a story happy forever. It's not in my nature. Five chapters left. (I'm trying to get them all up before I go on a trip in the middle of April.) Any predictions as to what's going to happen next in the story? I'm interested._

_Have a great rest of your week,_

_HS_


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Chapter Twenty**

Jacob and Renesmee kept their promise and visited Forks in September. It was a pleasant surprise, but Renesmee was on a mission that Jacob wasn't aware of until everybody was.

After being greeted at the main house, Renesmee sat in the living room with Jacob, across from her parents. It was hardly a reunion and more of a meeting. Neither Bella nor Edward really know what to expect because Jacob didn't know, either. Bella could tell because Renesmee sat calmly with her hands folded in her lap instead of intertwined with Jacob's.

"Mom, Dad," Renesmee said, "I want to have a baby."

Edward blinked twice. Bella didn't move at all. Jacob's eyes widened as he turned to look at Renesmee.

"_What_?" Jacob asked.

"I know what I said," Renesmee told him, "and you do, too." She looked back to her parents. "So, what do you guys think?"

"You've been married for two months," Bella said, as if it meant anything. Before Renesmee could point out the fact that Bella and Edward had been married for about two weeks before she became pregnant, Bella went on. "And I highly doubt it's possible for you to carry a child, anyway."

"Me, too," Edward said. "As long as you're not physically changing, I can't see any possible ways for you to healthily have a child, if at all."

"Dad, you're human again," Renesmee said. "After being immortal for over two hundred years, Carlisle found a way for you to be human again, and now you're denying the possibility of me having a child."

"The remedy was to give others a chance," Edward retorted. "It's not the same thing."

"Well, Carlisle's smart," Renesmee said, her tone headstrong, "and I believe he can create something."

"Ness, this isn't magic we're dealing with here," Bella told Renesmee. "Even if Carlisle was to come up with something, you would still be playing with your life. It's not a simple task. And did you even think to consider Jacob's opinion in any of this?"

Bella trapped Jacob. He already knew his opinion was in agreement with Renesmee since it had to be, but he still had to say the sensible thing.

Renesmee turned to Jacob. "Do you think we _shouldn't_ do this?" she asked him with eyes like daggers.

"No, of course not," he replied. "I mean, if it's not safe, we shouldn't try it. I don't want to put you in danger."

"But, Jake -" Ness began.

"No," Bella asserted.

Renesmee looked to her father. He just shook his head.

"It doesn't matter who you ask," Bella said. "It's still a no."

Renesmee pursed her lips together. She wasn't winning like she usually did. She'd been winning at nearly every point in her life up to now. And she hated to admit it, but the concept of being denied after getting everything her way was brand-new. And it _hurt_.

"If there was a way for it to be safe," Renesmee said to Jacob, "could we?"

"There's no way for it be safe," Jacob replied, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but no."

She'd been completely overruled, even by Jacob. It just wasn't fucking fair.

Renesmee and Jacob didn't stay in Forks very long after that. She had no other business being there. She'd said her hellos, she'd said her goodbyes, and on the car ride back to Ocean Shores, she didn't say much at all. She just stared out her window.

She had actually been told _no_, and for the first time in her life. She wish she was used to it. She wished her parents and aunts and uncles and grandparents had denied buying her whatever she wanted in the past, because those material items didn't matter anymore. All she wanted now was a baby. She shouldn't have even told her parents that she wanted one, anyway; it was her body, so she should have been allowed to do what she wanted. But she always had special circumstances in every scenario. It was natural.

What was so silly was that she didn't even ask her parents, and they had said no. She should have been more assertive. She certainly knew what she wanted. Love, wedding, and marriage had already been checked off her little list of to-dos. Something that was equally hers and equally Jacob's was next.

"We can always adopt," was what Jacob told her on the way home. It was such a lie, to both Renesmee and Bella. He hadn't expected Renesmee to want a baby, and he couldn't see himself holding on through the adoption process. The only thing worse than leaving Renesmee alone would be leaving her with a baby. If she fell apart without him, how could she take care of anything else?

She didn't take her eyes off the window. His offer was nothing special. "That's not the point," she replied.

"I thought you said you wanted a baby."

"I do, but I want it to be _our _baby, not some stranger's."

"That's harsh," he said. "A baby is a baby. If we adopt, it'll be ours."

"But what's make a child special is it having parts of both parents. I want a child that's half me and half you. That's all I want."

"All children are special," he countered.

"You're missing the point." Her voice was sharp. "I want to have the most unique baby in the world with the most unique man in the world. Is that too much to ask for?"

"It is, actually," he told her. "It really is."

"I know I shouldn't be able to conceive," she said, "but it just kills me how Carlisle can come up with an antidote to vampirism, but he can't come up with something to make me fertile. And I know what he did wasn't magic, but I wish he had done something for _me_, you know? I've never gotten a say in these big decisions. Like when Carlisle first developed the remedy, I couldn't even say if I wanted to take it or not. I've never had an opinion because nothing ever applies to me.

"Back when I was in Denali, I was so puzzled when it came to who I am and where I belong in the world. I belong everywhere and nowhere at all. I've _seen_ everything and nothing at all. And that's what bothers me the most, Jacob. The only real thing I've asked for is a child that is mine and yours. It's not gonna happen, but I'm not gonna blame you. I just wish I wasn't in this stupid halfway point of everything."

Jacob felt the same way. He also felt like he had failed. The last thing he could give her would be impossible.

"I'm sorry," was what he told her.

"It's okay," was what she said in response.

* * *

_**A/N**: __Warning: shit is about to hit the fan, and it will include violence. Four chapters left. I'll try to update soon._

_Have a nice day,_

_HS_


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

**Chapter Twenty-One**

The September air was crisp as Jacob walked through the forest near five o'clock. He felt the cold more now. In fact, he felt everything. He felt the autumn leaves crunch under his shoes against the soil of the forest floor. He felt his heart beating calmly in his chest. He felt the sturdy rope under his rough hands. He had never imagined his suicide this way, so peaceful. He had imagined him doing it hard and fast, sweat running down his face, heart pounding fast, a quick gunshot to the head. Of course, he'd been phasing back then. His poor attempt probably would have just left him with a big mess to clean up.

He'd been so silly back then, it was embarrassing. He was much more pragmatic now. Being with the Cullens for so long could change anybody.

Jacob was only a hundred steps from the garage now, but he was deep in the woods, where he belonged. As he quickly tied the noose, he had thoughts going through his head at a thousand miles an hour. Everything was adding up.

He had never been fit for this world. It had changed too much, but he wasn't used to things staying the same. For as long as he had lived with the Cullens, he had never grasped the concept of not changing. He had never been suited for it. The world had done nothing good for him, and as much as Renesmee and the rest of the Cullens had tried for so long to make the world a home for Jacob, it wasn't anything like home.

It was a goddamn graveyard.

Before climbing the tree and tying the rope to a branch, Jacob set the letter down next to wear his feet would hang. He didn't have to worry about placing it incorrectly. He had everything all planned out, and it would all work out. Jacob, the king of misfortunes, was finally having things work out in his favor for once.

He had seen and done it all. He had lived a long, agonizing life with sparks of happiness in between all the mishaps, but his life had not been ideal. He had never thought it would turn out this way until the absurdity in its entity had been right in front of him, all the time. His life had been ugly, but it was about to come to a well-deserved, triumphant conclusion.

Jacob felt victorious.

* * *

Bella had gotten the call at 4:30. Jacob was going to leave at 5:00.

She went to La Push to wait. She didn't want to hear any of it, but she couldn't afford to get there late and run the risk of anybody else finding him before she did. She had known of his exact plans for two weeks now, and her part had mostly been waiting, thinking of what to say to Renesmee when she would find out he was gone. If Bella's plans went along with the schedule, she would collect Jacob and make sure nobody would ever find him, and then she would give Renesmee the letter. Clean and quick - at least for Bella. She had said her goodbyes to Jacob two days ago, it had left her cold until now.

Bella was standing where Jacob's house had been. It was nothing but a clearing surrounded by forestry. She tried not to wait for the sounds, tried not to focus on his lively heartbeat and breathing, tried not to remind herself that her best friend was going to kill himself at any given moment, but she couldn't ignore everything.

When she heard the snap, everything fell silent.

Everything except for his heartbeat.

* * *

Renesmee spent that entire afternoon looking for Jacob. Since she had left him at noon to go to the store, he had disappeared from their home in Ocean Shores, and it concerned her, especially because she had something to tell him. She wanted to adopt now. After taking some time to get over herself and her current afflictions, she had decided that, yes, she wanted to adopt a baby. It would still be hers and Jacob's, even if it wasn't. That was what mattered now.

She couldn't wait to tell him the good news. She just wished she could find him now.

She searched for him along the Pacific coast, in every little beach town, but she had never thought to look in La Push. They hadn't been there in recent months, so it hadn't reached her mind until now.

At five o'clock that day, Renesmee pulled her car into the clearing where the remains of Jacob's old house had been. She quickly walked to the garage, but after calling his name like a fool, she realized it was empty.

In the woods, Bella focused on Jacob's heartbeat. The thumping filled her ears, so she couldn't hear anything else. She didn't hear Renesmee calling Jacob's name, and she didn't hear the footsteps, either. Even when Jacob's heartbeat ended, she didn't hear anything. All she could do was stare up at her dead best friend, hanging from a tree.

She didn't want to move him, didn't want to touch him, but she knew she had to take his body down. After collecting the letter, she quickly untied the noose and brought his body down. She didn't take another look at the noose as she dragged his body by the feet, heading further into the woods where nobody would find him.

Renesmee ran out to the woods, almost completely hushed and entirely alert, but Bella didn't hear her under the noise of Jacob's body being slowly dragged along the dirt and leaves. She couldn't bring herself to rush this; in her head, he was still alive, but sleeping.

Bella's back was turned when her daughter shortly found her, her hands wrapped around Jacob's ankles.

Renesmee gasped. Bella paused, but she didn't turn around.

"What is this?" Renesmee croaked out.

"This isn't for you to see," Bella whispered.

Renesmee gulped. Her heartbeat ran wild. "Did you do this, or did he do this to himself?"

Bella's voice was low. "He did it to himself."

Staring at her mother's back, Renesmee felt herself trembling. She had nothing left to say. When the tears started to escape her eyes, she trembled even harder.

Bella let go of the dead man's ankles so she could reach into the pocket of her jeans. She took out the crumpled letter and turned around. Closing the yards of space between her and Renesmee, she carefully set the letter in her daughter's hands, looking her daughter in the eyes. She turned back around and grabbed Jacob's ankles again.

Bella continued deeper into the woods, and Renesmee didn't follow her.

* * *

Renesmee stayed in the woods, where she eventually fell into a pile and crumpled into a ball on the ground, She sobbed wept loud and hard for what felt like hours, with Jacob's letter in her hands, and her hands in her face. She finally decided to read it once night had fallen, once she felt she had run out of tears. When she started reading, however, she realized she definitely hadn't run out of tears. It was impossible for her.

_My beautiful Renesmee,_

_I'm sorry to leave you like this, but I didn't have a choice. For years on end, I felt trapped because I have never been given a choice. At first, I thought imprinting on you solved all of my problems, but I slowly realized that my problems were only growing. Not having a choice has never been good for me, seeing as it is only constricting, and living in a world where I am not free is not living at all._

_The world doesn't need people like me who cannot adapt to it. I am too weak to constantly watch the world pass me by without moving myself; it's not who I am. As much as you and your family have made me feel safe over the years, I've never felt mentally secure. I've been suffering in silence for decades now, but I've finally gained the courage to free myself from the pain that you and your family could never bring an end to._

_I don't regret loving you, Renesmee, but I will admit I regret imprinting on you, even though it was entirely involuntary in the first place. I'm not suited for your world; I'm not meant to live forever. I wish I met you the normal way, and we fell in love like normal people. I would do anything to go back in time and make that change, but the world doesn't work that way. The world has constantly been kicking me down, so there's no reason for me to keep fighting it. I'm too weak._

_You, however, are not weak. You are STRONG. You are BRILLIANT. You are absolutely perfect, and even though I don't think imprints are meant to last forever, that is a fact. You are one of the most unique, wonderful people in the world. You told me that you don't fit in anywhere, but I see the opposite. Renesmee, you fit in everywhere. You have a heart so huge it can find a home anywhere in this world, and I know that without me, your heart won't be tied down anymore. Without me, you will be free._

_Even though you found this letter, you won't find me anywhere you look. I didn't just run away this time - I'm gone for good. Your mother has known of my decision for a while now, and she only knows to make this easier for you to deal with. Don't blame her; she is only trying to help you._

_I love you, Renesmee. May your soul be free,_

_Your Jacob_

* * *

Days later, Bella and Edward stood on First Beach, keeping their distance as Renesmee stepped forward. With a grim expression, Bella watched her daughter fling the ashes into the cold air, hoping that Jacob's soul was finally free.

* * *

_**A/N: **Three chapters left. Also, thank you for all the hits, follows, favorites, and reviews._

_HS_


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

November made a quiet arrival. Bella and Edward had remained with Renesmee, who cried every single night since Jacob's death. Edward and Bella had done one thing right by being a solid support system for their daughter, though it was still sad how they had only come back together in response to something as serious as a death.

November was quiet, but Renesmee was quieter. Closer to the middle of November, she had stopped crying every night. She was silent, but wasn't outwardly suffering anymore. It had to mean something to her parents. As tragic as Renesmee's predicament was, her parents were desperate to get her to move forward, even just a little bit. It had been hard enough for Bella to sit, static and still, but it would be pure agony to watch Renesmee go through that pain. She would still have the rest of eternity to try to live again. Just because it was the end for Jacob did not mean it would be the end for Renesmee.

At least, that was what Bella and Edward thought.

One night in November, Renesmee had convinced her parents to leave her alone for a night. Her mother's eyes had turned black with hunger, and her father had grown bored. She knew the rest of the family were going to go on a hunting trip tonight, and she wanted Bella to take part in that. Renesmee also knew that Edward had become interested in flying aircrafts within the last six months, since he had gotten over his aversion to flying cars. He had gotten his pilot's certification just last September before Jacob had passed, but he hadn't had much to do with it. Renesmee told Edward to go fly, and told Bella to go hunt.

Alone time was just what Renesmee needed.

After convincing her parents to leave her alone for the night, she patiently waited until they were far, far away from her. Edward was going to embrace his pilot's certification by flying to Dubai tonight. The rest of the Cullens headed out soon after him. They were supposed to hunt game in parts of northern Canada tonight.

Once Renesmee knew she was truly alone, she made a beeline to the kitchen. She had a wild, powerful war in her mind. It was spinning, buzzing, and whirring, and she needed to put an end to it before it finished her first.

She had lied. (And making herself stop crying had been one of the greatest challenges of her life.) She wasn't okay enough to be alone - she wasn't okay at all. She felt like how Jacob must have felt in the moments before he had officially decided to kill himself, and it was suffocating her before she could do the job herself.

Renesmee knew it was bad, and she knew it was ugly, but she had no choice anymore. It was going to be over soon enough.

In the kitchen of the cottage, she located the sharpest knife just where she had hidden it a week ago. Her parents had never guessed she would kill herself, being the perfect positive doll they had raised, but she didn't want to lose the ability to locate her weapon of choice in the off-chance that her parents ever got a clue tried to save her from herself.

With her erratic heartbeat in her ears, Renesmee picked up the knife and held it up to the light. It was sharp. It would do the job in no time. One quick slice, a little choking, and gone. Good and gone.

_He lied_, she thought. _I'm not equipped for this world, either. I've never been suitable for this world._

Renesmee brought the knife up to her throat, shut her eyes, took one last breath, and sliced the edge of it against her skin.

It didn't even scratch her. Her skin was too strong, too tough, and too impermeable.

She opened her eyes and looked at the knife. It was definitely real and she was definitely too tough, even at her throat. She pressed down hard and slid the knife across her left wrist, then her right wrist, then straight down the both of them, then at her stomach before stabbing it with all of her strength, then at the backs of her thighs, and she didn't make the slightest dent. Not even a scratch or a print. All she did was bend the knife.

Even in her weakest, most pathetic moments, she was still far too strong for her own good.

Silent, she left the cottage and snuck into the woods, heading towards the main house.

* * *

Frustrated, angry tears stung in Renesmee Cullen's eyes. As she looked up at the glass mansion that she had spent her idealistic, fraudulent childhood in, she knew she wasn't home. She wasn't anywhere near it. The house held nothing but chains for her, and she didn't feel liberated. She didn't have a choice anymore - all the stupid, petty choices she'd made when she was younger didn't matter now. Nothing mattered anymore except the task at hand, which was to end all of this. And it just might happen if she could leave her feelings out of her mission.

Renesmee went straight to Carlisle's infirmary, skipping three steps at a time on the staircase. She knew it would be there - it had to be. The remedy would be just where she thought: the same place it was a week ago when she had looked for it, setting up a backup plan in the chance that slitting her throat wouldn't work.

She paced to the fridge in the back of the room and opened the door to the fridge. She quickly took out the glass beaker. There was only 100 milliliters of the remedy left, but it would be just enough for her.

Renesmee knew that Carlisle had meant to get rid of the rest of the remedy sample since it was clear that nobody else would be turning back, but with all the issues that had occurred recently, that must have been the least of his worries. If Renesmee was happy for one thing in this horrid, dire situation, it was that. She would have to give Jacob a twisted _thank you_ when she met him again.

Hot tears were running down her face as she held the cure in her hands. She couldn't hear and she couldn't see, but she could think. And all she knew was that the sooner she was human, the sooner she could kill herself, and the sooner it would all be over. From the angle that she saw it, the only way she could ever be happy again would be if she was dead, like Jacob.

After living a vacuous life with a vapid mind, there was nothing left. She had lost faith in her parents, lost respect for the rest of her family, and lost the most important thing to ever exist before her eyes: Jacob. She only thing she had left to lose was herself. The sooner she was human, the sooner she could lose herself for good. She was nothing but a shameless, empty shell that she needed to break free from.

She downed the liquid in one gulp, nearly choking in the process. It was bitter - and _strong_. Within seconds, she saw bright lights flashing around the room and heard a high-pitched, continuous noise as she got hot and cold flashes. She tried to hold on to the door of the fridge for support, but as she moved, she lost all sense of balance and collapsed to the floor, landing on the beaker and effectively breaking it with the weight of her body.

She blinked, and the room was no longer in color, in tones of brown and green and blue, but it was all white. She moved her hands across the floor and under her in order to move the pieces of glass, but she felt nothing. She couldn't even feel her veins bursting one by one. She knew she was screaming, but her throat should have might as well been cut out. She couldn't hear herself. She couldn't hear anything but the high-pitched whistle that filled her ears, threatening to crack her eardrums.

Renesmee started convulsing on the floor, her skin turning purple. She convulsed for what felt like an eternity, and she wasn't aware of her last thoughts. All she knew was that she had only meant to become human so she could properly commit suicide. She hadn't meant to die in a nasty, horrible accident on the way to killing herself purposefully, on her own terms. As the queen of petty mistakes, she couldn't even feel sorry for herself anymore. She couldn't feel anything at all.

When the convulsions were all over, Renesmee laid still on the floor of the infirmary with her mouth slightly agape, her glazed brown eyes looking up to the white lights, and a substance as black and sticky as tar oozing from her nostrils.

* * *

Edward didn't feel good about flying out tonight. He had spent a good half hour at the runway at Port Angeles, considering if tonight was the right time. Dubai had always been his top destination since he had gotten his certification, but that could always wait. Bella _needed_ to hunt; he didn't _need_ to fly out. So Edward drove back home to Forks to be with his daughter. It was the least he could do.

He came home to an empty cottage, but before panicking, he just went to the main house. He could see why Renesmee would want to spend the night in the bigger house; the cottage was too cramped. He had a bad feeling, though, like something was very, very wrong. For one thing, the front door to the main house was wide open.

"Renesmee?" he called as he entered the mansion. Nothing. He couldn't be worried about a burglar or anything; his family had nearly unlimited resources. But Renesmee was nowhere to be found downstairs. Not in the living room, or the kitchen, or even the garage.

Edward checked the rooms on the upper floors. There was no reason for her to be in anybody else's bedroom, but he looked for her, anyway. There wasn't a sign of her in any of the bedrooms.

The infirmary was the last place he went, and when he entered the room, the first thing he saw was the bronze hair. With hair the same color as his, Edward could recognize his daughter anywhere in the entire world, and that was definitely her, on the floor. But as he got closer, he noticed her glassy eyes, her open mouth, and the black substance sliding from her nose, drying onto her top lip.

"Renesmee."

He gently placed his hands on her shoulders. She was cold and stiff.

"_Renesmee_."

He leaned in to hear her breathing, and he pressed his fingers to her wrist to feel her pulse. He got nothing. _Nothing_. He didn't move a muscle, didn't make a sound.

He held his lifeless daughter's cold, frigid hand against his beating heart, waiting for the rest of the Cullens to return home.

* * *

Edward didn't want Bella to see their daughter like this, but when Bella came back to Forks with the rest of the Cullens that night, she demanded to see her. Bella had let him wrap his arms around her at the front door of the main house for seven seconds before she threatened to become violent and pry him off her body.

Bella hurried to the infirmary, and Edward followed behind as fast as he could, telling her she didn't need to see Renesmee like this. Bella didn't listen; all she could do was run. The rest of the family followed Edward and Bella in silence, except for Alice's constant muttering of the single word _no. _She hadn't seen anything like this coming.

Bella swung open the door to the infirmary and stumbled back as soon as she realized that the unconscious girl on the floor really was Renesmee. Alice held Bella by the shoulders as Jasper, Carlisle, and Esme went to the corpse. All Bella could do was shake her head from side to side, staring at Renesmee, repeating the word _no_ just as Alice had. Edward held Bella again, telling her he was sorry he had to see their daughter like this, and that he never wanted her to see her like this.

As Carlisle examined Renesmee's corpse, he recognized the purple fluid that had been leaking from her veins.

"She took the remedy," he murmured.

That was when Bella lost it.

She quickly turned to Edward with wild gold eyes and clenched fists, and he jumped back, crashing into the wall. She lurched forward, but Alice held her back.

"_You let this happen?!" _Bella roared at Edward, who cowered in the corner, his arms up in a weak attempt of self-defense..

"Of course not!" he exclaimed.

"What happened, then?" Bella demanded, her voice only fifty times stronger than his.

"Yeah, Edward," Alice said. "What the hell happened?"

Carlisle, Esme, and Jasper looked to Edward. Jasper did nothing to influence the mood of the room. It wouldn't work, anyway.

"I found her like this," Edward said. "I came home, didn't find her in the cottage, and came here. I found her right there on the floor. She was already gone."

"She's gone," Bella whispered, realizing the permanence of the situation. "My baby is gone."

Edward didn't bat an eyelash. If he were to cry, Bella would hate him even more than she already did.

"Did she ever express a desire to be human?" Carlisle asked.

"No," Edward said. "Never."

"It doesn't matter," Bella said. "It doesn't matter how or why it happened, Carlisle. My daughter is fucking _dead._"

Edward had nothing left to say. _Bella's_ daughter was gone, and there was nothing he could say that would rectify their situation.

* * *

_**A/N**: __Two chapters left. I'm ready to wrap this up. It's been a fun time._

_Thanks,_

_HS_


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

The Cullens buried Renesmee the very next morning. They would have buried her sooner if they hadn't called Rosalie and Emmett, but it would have been insulting to not tell them as soon as it had happened. Rosalie had cried from the moment she had found out until now, as the short funeral service was about to begin. _Having a funeral service is the normal thing_, Alice had said. _It's what she would have wanted._

Rosalie and Emmett had dropped everything to attend the funeral, making the four hour trip to Forks with plenty of time before the funeral to cry. They even brought Walter with them. The adolescent hadn't even known of his only cousin, but he respectfully sat with his parents.

The funeral service was short, but it took forever to begin, probably because it had been organized within a matter of hours. Bella spent less time reminiscing with everybody and more time trying to convince herself that her daughter was still alive. For some reason, there was an open casket. Maybe it was to just mess with Bella's head, or maybe it was for closure and to try to make everyone forget Renesmee had died in such an ugly, horrendous accident. Either way, Bella was drawn to the casket. Renesmee, her beautiful daughter, just looked like she was sleeping.

Bella couldn't help it. She couldn't help taking her daughter's cold hand and pressing it up to her cheek, waiting for something, for thoughts. And she couldn't help imagining things. For a second, she felt a quick flash: blinking lights, a heavy heart beat, a soft _I love you, Mama. _

Bella let go of Renesmee's limp hand. She needed to stop letting her imagination get the best of her.

The funeral service was short. Jacob hadn't had one, but his would have been short, too. What was there to say? They had both suffered terribly, but that was obvious. There had only been a matter of time before they lost once and for all.

Bella was falling to pieces with every word said about Renesmee, but Edward stayed strong. (For his sake or her own? He wasn't sure - he couldn't be sure of anything these days.) He hadn't been one to express much of his emotions, anyway, but now, he was especially stoic. He still didn't cry. Since he had turned human, he had not cried once, all in order to spare Bella's feelings - and he still didn't even cry, not even today. Instead, he remained solid at Bella's side.

As their daughter was being lowered six feet into the ground, Edward squeezed Bella's hand. She held her face in his bicep - she just couldn't watch anymore. She mentally said her last goodbyes, and when Renesmee was underground, she knew that she was truly gone.

When it was all said and done, the vampire members of the family quietly retreated to the main house. Bella asked to have a word with Carlisle and Edward, and they complied. They went to the library for privacy, even though the other vampires would be able to hear them if they tried to. Edward rubbed his eyes and yawned - he hadn't slept at all last night. Bella placed her hands on her hips, waiting for him to be done.

"Yes, Bella?" Carlisle asked her.

"I need Edward to be a vampire again," Bella bluntly told Carlisle. Then she turned to Edward. "You have to."

"That's an absurd request," Edward said. There he was again, invalidating her feelings. Did he not have any idea as to what had just recently happened?

"I'm not asking you," Bella replied, "and this is in no way a request. Edward, I'm _telling_ you that you have to go back."

He didn't dare ask why. He already knew.

"I need you more than ever now," she said. "I can't afford to lose anybody else."

Edward turned to Carlisle. "Would it even be safe?" he asked.

Carlisle, completely ashamed that his discovery had managed to ruin the lives of everybody around him, simply shrugged his shoulders. For once, he just didn't know. "I'm not sure," he said. "It would be dangerous, since the cure was formed under the assumption that one wouldn't go back, but…" He hesitated, which wasn't like him.

"But what?" Bella demanded.

"If Edward were to try be injected with venom, it wouldn't be worse than what happened with Renesmee, especially since we already know how venom works."

"That's true," Edward mumbled. Bella and Carlisle both stared at him.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" Edward asked Bella. He truly saw her now; he had no other choice. Ignoring her even further would only make matters worse, if that was possible. He could see the desperation in her eyes. Of course she was sure she wanted him to do this. She had always been sure in her decisions, never one to hesitate much, and she was just the same now.

She nodded. "Yes. I'm positive."

"Okay."

* * *

At dusk, Edward felt his heart racing as he calmly laid on a bed in the infirmary. Bella could hardly stand to be in that room again, but she knew she had to. Even though not everybody had came to a consensus, it was practically unanimous: Edward would have to go back if he was going to continue living with everybody in Forks, and they couldn't lose anybody else.

Edward was supposed to be as numb as humanly possible for his transformation; Carlisle supplied more than enough morphine. The transformation also wasn't supposed to take very long, since he wasn't injured or have any sort of bodily harm. It was the first of Carlisle's transformations that wasn't done in a dire situation, in regards to the human's life.

Bella held Edward's hand as Carlisle injected the venom shortly after making sure Edward had enough morphine. He remained mostly still until he spasmed violently. It happened once, twice, three separate times until they became constant.

"Carlisle, what's happening?" Bella asked.

"Wait."

Edward continued to convulse. As he blinked and shook erratically, he let out a cry through gritted teeth. He squeezed Bella's hand so tight that he would have broken it if it was more vulnerable - he wouldn't let go. With tight muscles, he jerked against the table.

"Carlisle, do something!" Alice said impatiently. "He's having an epileptic seizure."

"I can't touch him," Carlisle told her. "It will only make it worse."

Edward's eyes started rolling to the back of his head, and he started to turn purple as he held his breath. His back was arching off the table, and he continued to grunt through gritted teeth. His grunts had turned into muffled screams until suddenly, he fell slack against the table.

Everybody in the room was silent. The beat of his heart grew louder than ever.

Edward remained still until dawn. Everybody had been quietly waiting as his eyes fluttered open. His eyes were the first thing Bella saw of him, besides his slightly paler skin tone. His eyes were still green.

"How do you feel?" Carlisle asked him softly.

Edward blinked. His face was completely clear.

"Edward," Bella said. "How do you feel? What can you hear? What can you see? Do you feel thirsty?"

He ignored her questions. All he did was stare up at Bella with wide eyes.

"What is your name?" was what he asked her.

* * *

"So if I have all this correct," Bella said to Carlisle, "the seizure was too much for his brain to handle, and now he's in a sort of fugue state, so he doesn't know anybody anymore."

"You're almost correct," Carlisle said. "I believe that he recognizes some traits in others, but only traits."

"Which would explain why he doesn't know anybody's name," Bella assumed.

"Correct."

Edward sat on a chair in the infirmary. The entire family surrounded him, completely in awe. Alice stood in front of him and bent down to see him at eye level. "Who am I?" she asked him.

"You are my sister," he said with clarity.

Bella noticed how vulnerable he still looked. His skin didn't have the marble traits that her own skin had, but she was afraid to touch him. What if he was more vulnerable than ever? Bella couldn't tell whether he was still human or not. He had been craving blood earlier, but he had also bruised like any human would have. He seemed to be in the halfway point between human and vampire, and it was absolutely astonishing.

Edward described every member of his family, whether it was his mother, sister, father, or brother. He recalled Emmett and Rosalie, through photographs. He even recalled his daughter, though he wasn't aware that she was deceased. Various people - Jasper, especially - were trying to get Edward to retain their names, but he couldn't without forgetting them within minutes.

Bella tried to get him to remember her. She asked him the same question that everybody else had asked him. "Who am I?"

He appeared to be thinking really hard, but what was there to process? His head had to have been empty.

"You are the woman who no longer loves me."

Bella's heart shattered into a trillion fragments at the verity.

* * *

Within days, Edward showed growth in his memory. With vigorous practice, names of people and places would stick with him for five minutes at a time, and then an hour, and then three hours.

Carlisle also studied his physical characteristics, which contained traits of both vampires and humans. He hardly had any pigmentation, yet blood ran throughout his body and beating heart. He could no longer sleep, but he could bruise, and he did have the capability to cry (which he didn't do). He felt hunger, but always for human blood, and his eyes remained green. He apparently had twenty-four pairs of chromosomes - the same as Jacob and Renesmee - instead of the twenty-five that vampires had and the twenty-three with humans. And he was as strong and fast as a human man was, but his senses were incredible. However, he still couldn't hear other people's thoughts.

Edward was a wonder. There was no way to classify him. Carlisle wasn't proud of his creation, though; he was merely ashamed. He couldn't play God forever.

Bella was more frustrated than ever. While she knew that she no longer loved him because the person he used to be was no longer enough for her now, she was at war with herself because she wanted to love him. Even though he was just broken pieces and nowhere near whole, she wanted to love him because he was the last person she could wholly love, but she also knew she didn't have the capacity to.

Even as he was practically an empty shell, she wanted to see the humanity in him, just to know that he was still real. She wanted nothing but him to be real. And even then, he still didn't cry. Somewhere in his hollow mind, he wasn't crying out of pure selflessness. It made her sick.

When she looked at him, she wanted to scream. "Are you even human?" she wanted to ask him. "Are you even _alive_?"

She was an idiot, though. _Isn't it clear?_

It was completely clear, and she was going to clear everything else before it ruined her even more.

* * *

_**A/N: **Expect the last chapter in a couple of days._

_Mad love,_

_HS_


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

The Cullens decided to leave Forks in early December. They would all be relocating, but in separate pieces. They had come to a consensus: temporary space would be beneficial for everyone. As much as they all preferred to stay in one place - and as one piece - for as long as possible, some space was needed. It wasn't because they were weak, though; it was because they were trying to be stronger. Carlisle and Esme had their eye on Syracuse; Alice and Jasper took an interest in Glasgow. Everybody had spent a long time in Forks. They would just be moving on like they usually did, but with less people and to different destinations.

Bella and Edward still had no idea where to go. Edward, whose memory was much better than it had been a month ago, was still as static as ever. It had merely been in his nature all along, whether mortal, immortal, or something else. He wasn't entirely ready to leave Forks just yet, but Bella had been ready to go since her forever with him had been obliterated. She had never believed - and she still didn't believe - that Edward had chosen mortality over her, and while he was somewhere between mortal and immortal now, it still wasn't enough. She had never expected her existence to be complicated like this. She should have known, though. She should have seen the turmoil from the very beginning, and she shouldn't have needed Alice's special ability to see it coming.

On a cold afternoon in December, Bella sat in the cottage with Edward. Bella had lost her mind, Edward had lost his, and they had both lost everything else, but Renesmee's shadow remained in the cottage, along with her belongings. She had spent so little time in the cottage within the last few years that it was like she had never left it for good.

Bella just couldn't hope Renesmee would come home anymore.

With a cushion between the two of them, both Bella and Edward sat on the couch, quiet and civil, but Bella was boiling underneath it all - more than the usual. Waiting on him, she had no clue how to contain herself. She didn't know herself at all anymore. The constant hostility she felt especially threatened to ooze from her now.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. His palms touched, and they were placed against his nose and mouth. He stared straight and barely moved his lips when he asked her, "What are you thinking about?"

She kept still, sitting like the perfect, complacent porcelain doll. She could feel herself collecting dust. "I've been thinking about forever," she said. "You don't think so far ahead, do you?"

"I don't. Forever is a long time."

"I suppose it is."

"I still love you, you know," he told her. "I still love the woman I met here, in Forks."

A while ago, she would have melted at him saying this. A while ago, when she had been a fool, she would have hated him one minute and swooned the next just at him saying something slightly endearing. But she had been right all along: Edward Cullen was not an endearing person. That, she knew.

"I suppose you do," she replied.

* * *

The Cullens went their separate ways that afternoon, and Edward had decided on Reykjavík. Flying to Iceland had always been one of his favorite activities, so he imagined it would be his favorite place to live. Edward went out to his hangar to make flight preparations; he and Bella planned on leaving that night.

Bella, alone in Forks, felt her head spinning. She had done it. She had reached a nomadic point of madness. She had spun out so far from reality, so far from her expectations, and she had nothing. She had nothing to her name anymore, nothing she could control. It was time.

If she could no longer have the pure forever that she had anticipated on, then she would have to do what any other person would do: she would erase the ugliness that was left and do it all over again.

Bella poured gasoline into every room of the cottage, left it, and threw in not one lit match, but five, successfully setting fire to it. As she watched the small house go up in flames, she twisted off her wedding ring and tossed it into the fire. It turned to nothing, just like everything else.

If she could buy forever at a price, she would buy it twice. There was no way she would give it up. Would she create a new one? Sure. But would she give it up? Never. Now, she created a blank space. Erasing everything - all the memories of her love with Edward, all the memories of Renesmee, all the memories of any happiness - was going to hurt now, but it wouldn't hurt forever. Nothing lasted forever. She kept telling herself _Nothing lasts forever_ as she watched the cottage be engulfed by flames. That little mantra was the only thing that sustained her.

And it was then that she realized she was just like every other person to ever exist. She was forever chasing after time. People - human or not - loved to leave their mark, to make the world aware of who they were and what they did to change it. Everybody wanted to live and die meaningfully, and for Bella, she just wanted to not be consumed by her surroundings. She didn't want this horrendous tragedy to be the story she wouldn't get to tell, the story that ruined her for eternity. It wasn't enough for her to live a lucky life - she wanted to be victorious in any ways that she could. All that she had left was her pride, and it needed to be fulfilled.

She watched the cottage and all its memories die away in the fire, with the flames starting to lick at her marble skin. She didn't know where this would lead her, or where she would go. All she knew was that nothing lasted forever.

* * *

Edward came home at twilight, but when he saw the uncontrollable fire that had engulfed the cottage, confusion and horror fell upon his face. Bella had been watching him from the shadows of the trees, meters away from where the cottage had been.

She emerged, looking as pretty as a picture. There wasn't a trace of ashes on her. She was just too good. But even though she couldn't see it, she knew there was blood on her hands. There was too much blood on her hands for her to see him like this for a second longer.

He didn't have to asked if she did started the fire or not. Instead, he asked her, "Why?"

She didn't answer his question. All she did was nod her head towards the woods. "Take a walk with me."

He followed her until they were deep in the woods, so deep that they could hardly see the orange in the sky. They weren't too far from what had been home, though; the smell of smoke was still prominent in the air.

Bella stopped walking and turned around to face him. "We can't do this anymore, Edward," was what she told him.

She'd never given much thought to how she would die. She would never die, though; it was almost like she had known that all along. She had known for a long time that she would eventually have her forever; she just hadn't considered the possibility of Edward not being a part of it. And she was fine with that now, as long as she would be eventually be peaceful.

Back in a previous life—an easier one, at that—she would have died for _him_. Everything she did would have been for _him_. She had lived for _him_, and when she thought about it, she truly had died for _him_. She had died everyday for _him_ because it had been the right thing to do, and because she had thought it would all work out eventually. With her luck, she should have known that nothing would work out after all.

When she thought about it now, there was nothing right about it. Him, her, the idea of him and her. Maybe he'd known that it wasn't right, but he'd done it, anyway. He had been—since he definitely was not now—a villain like that. And of course, that was fine with her. She was a villainess. It was practically her middle name. They were a team, a pair, yet they were so far away from each other that he was now the lesser of two evils.

For some reason, he still put up a fight. He still thought that there was a love worth fighting for amid all the emotional imbalances and abuse that had ensued for what could have been an eternity. That hurt her more than anything else. "Why not?" he asked innocently, stupidly. "I thought we would repair everything once we got to Iceland."

"It's far too late," she said, her voice low and peaceful.

He said nothing. He knew.

How was it so easy for her to look so fondly in the face of complete innocence and plain, earthly beauty only to shatter it? To anybody else, it wasn't easy; it wasn't _supposed_ to be easy. Everybody had their deal of difficult times to get through, but maybe she'd had just had too many times like this. Maybe she'd been broken somewhere in the middle of this journey, so these times weren't that difficult anymore. They were only difficult for people who had feelings. She wasn't one of those people. Having grown indifferent to pain and loss, that made a lot sense—almost too much sense, really.

She looked down at innocent green eyes filled with tears, but not quite releasing them, and he held his breath and prayed for his soul. She would pray for hers, too, but it was impossible to pray for something that didn't exist. It was impossible to hope for nothing.

She wanted to say she was sorry, but _sorry_ was just another one of her phrases. It was so classic that it was almost sickening. She had been sorry for bleeding, sorry for crying, and sorry for living. _Sorry_ hadn't done anything, and it never would. When the weak had nothing good of their own to give, what were they to do?

They were to take.

_Sorry_ had no effect on monsters like her.

After this moment, she would erase everything that had ever been Edward and Bella. After this moment, there would be no trace of them or Renesmee or Jacob or anybody else associated with them. Nothing of any of them would exist after this moment. The memories of them would all be ashes, just like the cottage. His brain was practically blank still; he would be able to handle it and move on, knowing that he never existed, that Bella never existed, and that nothing concerning them mattered anymore.

But in this moment, he finally released a single tear. From all the years he had been capable of crying in front of her, he finally took the chance now. The tear rolled down his pale face, and his green eyes glimmered as more tears came out, but they had no effect on her.

Her hand traced his cheek, light as a feather. She knew keeping him away from the physical pain wouldn't numb the mental, but she couldn't afford to hurt him any more than she might in this moment.

"It will be as if I'd never existed."

* * *

**_Remedium_**

**Fin.**


	26. End Notes

**_End Notes_**

_I'm not a seasoned professional at Bella x Edward fanfiction, and it's not even my favorite pairing (yet my most popular - and embarrassing - story to date is one about them, ironically), but when I had the idea for this story, I couldn't leave it alone._

_One day in October of 2013, when I had been on a long break from fanfiction writing, I was talking on the phone with a dear friend. I was goofing around when I asked, "What if Carlisle could come up with an antidote to vampirism?" Immediately, we got the science parts figured out (where my creative license regarding science comes in), as well as the title. I was in love with the basic idea of the story and the name. "Remedium" rang in my head for months before I even started writing it. _

_When I mapped out the plot, I did not expect the story to turn out this dark, but I am actually proud that it did. I don't like to do just one thing in regards to my stories, but I'm always growing as a writer. Writing is my favorite activity, whether it's fanfiction or not. I write poetry, FIRE essays, and sometimes even music. But with fanfiction, I know I've done dark (examples: Gods and Monsters; various one-shots from early 2013), and I know I've done light (examples: Kinda Outta Luck; Cleansing). I had the idea that Remedium would be dark, but not THIS dark. I'm not ashamed, though. I'm glad it turned out this way, dense and precise. It's been a wonderful experience._

_As I started writing this story (and dropping it, and then picking it up again), I had a good idea of the readers that I would be dealing with. Jacob fans are always insightful and here for a good story, so I had no worries there, but Bella x Edward fans, I swear... Bella x Edward fans are some of the hardest people to please when your story's not a cutesyfic with human Bella and human Edward involved in various human shenanigans (no shade, though). And naturally, people don't like to see their favorite pairing couple suffer, especially in the way that they do in Remedium, and I know the characterization wasn't my readers' favorite thing in the world. But I can live with not pleasing everybody. I just wanted to tell a story that's been in my head for a long time, and I wanted to tell it beautifully, whether or not the characterizations were beautiful or not._

_The characterizations of Bella and Edward in this story are products of my recent fascination with the domestic noir genre (since I read and saw Gone Girl, I've been obsessed, I admit), as well as personal experiences of toxic relationships and watching them unravel in real life. I have two methods of coping with stress, and the healthier one is writing. Writing people unravelling is a lot nicer than seeing it happen before me. In the time that I've been writing Remedium, my personal life has constantly been stressful in regards to family, friends, and mental health. I'm happy to release all that stress in writing. Writing kills a lot of time, as well as a lot of stress. So if you're upset with the story overall, I'm sorry, but I wrote it for me, too._

_So if you stuck with this story through all these chapters, throughout all the drama and tragedy and constant angst and feeling of hopelessness, thank you. Thank you so much. You kept me going, both on here and in the real world. On my worst days, I knew that somewhere, some people were reading my story, seeing me do my favorite thing. That really helped me. When things get bad again, I'll start a new story. I can't wait, but at the same time, I can._

_**A special thanks to**:_

_-teamjacob0729_  
_-LRK860_  
_-sujari6_  
_-Shamatt0403_  
_-Geneu_  
_-cullenmeadow_  
_-MaryMary123_  
_-FICTIONAL-STAR_  
_-Leria_  
_-Shin Maxwell_  
_-Mercyrus  
__-PastOneonta  
__-lundyred_

_-My wonderful Josh (Master Gaga)  
__-My wife SeDona (Lady Blackwater)_

* * *

**_Mad, mad, mad love,_**

**_HalcyonSeasons_**


End file.
